


The Hollow Kingdom Revisited

by kanonkita



Category: Hollow Kingdom - Clare B. Dunkle, Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Crossover, Elves, Fantasy AU, Goblins, Humanized, Intersex, Intersex Characters, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Or More Like, Period-Typical Sexism, Period-Typical Underage, Size Difference, a "gaylation" if you will, i just translated the original book into gay, mild dub-con, regency au, stolen brides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 82,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22274761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanonkita/pseuds/kanonkita
Summary: Starscream and Skywarp move back to their late mother's ancestral estate and Starscream's inheritance, a wild land with family they've never met and legends of goblins in the hills, waiting to snatch pretty young boys who wander after dark...
Relationships: Megatron/Starscream
Comments: 81
Kudos: 87





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This work is less an adaptation or a crossover and more just me translating a book into gay. The original book (for people who found this via transformers fandom) is The Hollow Kingdom by Claire B. Dunkle. It was one of my favorites growing up, and I keep wanting to recommend it to people, but having to add the caveat, "But it's very straight." So, I figured, why not create a version that fixes that? And then as I started thinking on that prospect further, I realized this was absolutely golden for a Megastar AU.
> 
> So, I've added some original content, particularly in the worldbuilding and some extra scenes in the middle portion of the book, and changed some aspects of the main character to make it properly Starscream, but there are definitely large sections that are almost word for word the original book with different names and pronouns. As such, please support the original author! If you enjoy this, the original book was part of a trilogy, so you might like to check out the second and third installments. Or maybe you'd enjoy reading the original novel and comparing the differences between Starscream Quaesit and Kate Winslow. :) I'd also highly recommend Claire B. Dunkle's book "By These Ten Bones," which is some seriously good fantasy.

He had never screamed before, not when he overturned the rowboat and almost drowned, not when the ivy broke and he crashed into the shrubbery below, not even when Lightfoot had bucked him off and he felt his leg break underneath him with an agonizing crunch. He hadn't even known that he could. Screaming was Clarity's job, and Clarity was terribly good at it.

But now he screamed, long and loud, with all his breath.

“My dear,” came a mild voice from beneath the black hood. “Do you mind? You're hurting my ears, and I'm surprised at you. You've always been so brave.”

He hushed up then, his pride roused, and instead put all his efforts into breaking free, thrashing and writhing in the grip of the black-cloaked figure. It did no good. The stranger carried him steadily and unhurriedly through the woods' deep evening gloom, and he could see as he twisted about that those others—those bizarre things—were still all around them, following.

The strange crowd broke from the forest and stopped a few feet from the steep bluffs of the Hill.

“This is what you've been looking for,” remarked the hooded one. “Our front door. You wanted to walk right in, as I recall, and here's your chance.”

He set his captive on his feet, one thick arm still around his waist. The boy immediately tried to slide to the ground, his feet scrabbling on the loose dirt. Doubled over, kicking and clawing, he felt himself dragged forward.

“There. You've walked in, more or less.”

He straightened up to find himself in a broad, dimly lit corridor of polished black stone.

“You're inside now. You don't see anywhere to run, do you?”

He froze as he realized he didn't.

“So you'll stop all this scrambling around. You shouldn't have come looking for us, my dear, if you didn't want to find us.”

The tall figure released him and unfastened a cloak as he stepped back to study his captive gravely. The boy stared at him open-mouthed, unable to look away.

The man's eyes were beautiful, large and black, like the eyes of Christ on his father's Greek icon. His face was broad, with high cheekbones, and his smooth skin shimmered in the lamplight with a strange, silvery gray color. He had no hair on his head, no beard, not even eyebrows. His mouth was a little too wide, and his ears were long and narrow, rising to sharp points at the ends. The boy had never thought of himself as short, but this man was half a head taller than he, and his broad shoulders and thick arms had already proven their strength as they'd carried him away effortlessly.

“You see what a lucky boy you are?” the man said in a low voice. “I'm very handsome for a goblin. And you were going to catch a goblin, weren't you? With your bare hands.” He reached out and laid one of the boy's trembling hands on his muscular, silvery gray forearm. “You've caught a goblin, my dear, all for your very own.”

The hand on the end of the arm was tipped with what looked like well-kept dog claws, and the boy tried to pull away. His captor chuckled quietly, and he glanced up to discover that the teeth in that gray face were the color of dark, tarnished silver.

“Where's your spirit of adventure gone?” the goblin asked. “You wanted a goblin, remember? And you wanted to walk right in here, too, didn't you? Is there anything else you'd like to do?”

“I want to go home,” he whispered, and the first tear escaped.

The goblin watched it trail down his cheek, and, to the boy's surprise, his face softened.

“I'll take you home,” he promised. “Come with me now.”

Comforted, the boy let him keep the hand he held and lead him down the polished corridor. Perhaps the stories weren't true after all. Perhaps the goblins simply enjoyed a good prank as well as he did and he and Clarity would soon be laughing over this together.

They came to a broad, high iron door, which swung open as they approached and then clanged shut behind them without a single touch. The boy hardly noticed, so wondrous was the view before them on the other side. He came to a halt and stared, thinking what a story this would make when he got home. The goblin stopped as well, letting him take it in.

“Here you are, my dear,” he said. “My kingdom. And your home. It's been a long wait, but it's over at last.”

It took a moment for the boy to realize what he'd said, and then he turned to him sharply, searching that inhuman face for some other meaning. The monster simply smiled at him warmly.

“No!” the boy gasped.

“Indeed,” the goblin assured him. “You haven't seen me, but I've watched you since you were a baby. I've watched over you, too. I tightened your teeth back up when you knocked them loose tumbling out of the sled you'd tied to the pony's tail. I fixed your knee after you fell from the ivy when you were eight, and I healed your leg the night you broke it getting thrown from the horse.” His smile broadened. “I was glad the doctor didn't know about that, though. Eight weeks' rest was something we all needed at that point.”

The boy stared at him in bewilderment.

“It was good for you to grow up outside.” His voice was kind, even if his words were nothing short of cruel. “You certainly enjoyed it. But you were always intended for here, and now you're finally old enough. Barely, but old enough.” He chuckled. “I'd have left you outside for another year or two, but you showed such a lively interest in us. You just couldn't wait to meet goblins. So you're home now. In all the years you live here, this door will never open for you again. You're underground with me until you die.”

“No!” the boy cried, jerking away and flinging himself at the door. “I want out! I want to go home!” He pounded on the iron with fists and forearms. He kicked the door and threw himself against it. The goblin watched all this with a fond forbearance, but when his prisoner tried to claw the door open, he intervened.

“Now, now,” he said gently, capturing the boy's wrists and surveying his bruised hands. “Let's not break off all those pretty nails, my dear. We'll need at least three for the ceremony.” And, arm around his waist, he led the sobbing, stumbling boy away.

* * *

Seventy years passed over the land, and they passed underneath it, too. Anguish and grief faded to a dull throb, and finally only the mysteries themselves remained, forgotten by all but a few concerned.


	2. Chapter One

The first time Maelstrom Quaesit saw Daybreak Bryht, he knew nothing about the man except that he wanted to take him home right there and then. And, of course, that Daybreak was an androgyne—a person of male appearance who nevertheless shared intimate faculties with both men and women—from the lack of hair on his otherwise mature face and the fact that he was dressed in a gown, midnight blue and sparkling with beetle wings like a starry sky. The same deep blue as the demure eyes Daybreak turned on him when Maelstrom asked for the younger man’s name.

Theirs was a whirlwind romance, one that Maelstrom’s family would have disapproved of on principal were Daybreak not the heir to a vast Hallow Hill estate in the northern countryside. Having an androgyne in the family was a complex matter that most preferred to avoid, the men in question tending to marry either their own kind or at least the sons and daughters of families where the abnormality was already present.

“It will only end in tears. His kind don’t bear children well, and you’ll likely lose him with the first,” Maelstrom’s father warned, himself a widower of some years now.

But the young couple would hear no reason against their union, and Daybreak did not perish with the birth of their first son, though it was a near thing. The child, whom they named Starscream, was also an androgyne. He had no nursemaid in his early years, spending them instead either in his mother’s arms or clinging to his skirts as Daybreak and Maelstrom walked the little pastures and woodlands that surrounded their country estate. 

What Starscream loved most of all, though, was venturing into the fields with his mother of a summer night to watch the stars he had been named for. He was not a sentimental or fanciful child, but when he lay in the meadow grass and watched their gentle radiance dance above him, little Starscream sometimes felt almost as if he could hear their voices, calling him to a home he’d never known. His mother taught him their names and pointed out the pictures the ancient Greeks had drawn in them, but Starscream was certain there was more to it than that. Even when he couldn’t see them, the boy often felt their gentle radiance in his mind.

However, tragedy struck the young family soon after Starscream’s seventh birthday when the birth of their second son—also an androgyne, whom they named Skywarp after Maelstrom’s grandfather—claimed Daybreak’s life. 

Starscream took the death of his mother especially hard, turning to violent tantrums and nervous fits. It was both in hopes of calming his son and out of loneliness after the loss of his beloved wife that Maelstrom began to lavish hours each day onto the boy’s education. The time spent in his father’s quiet presence and the neatly ordered tomes of natural science did Starscream some good, though he retained a reputation for a quick temper and a lack of certain social niceties as he grew. Anyone careless enough to remark on the impropriety of an androgyne receiving such an erudite education or being permitted to dress in trousers within Starscream’s earshot was guaranteed to receive a stony glare and a caustic remark, regardless of their own social standing.

Skywarp on the other hand grew to be a bright, open boy who either did not understand or refused to acknowledge any attempts his brother may have made to discourage his company. As the years went on, Starscream developed first a grudging acceptance and eventually a possessive affection for the other boy. They were often to be seen roaming the countryside together with their father: Starscream with his scientific journals and watercolors and Skywarp with mud up his front from whatever creek he’d dived into or tree he’d climbed in search of adventure.

It was when Starscream was just on the cusp between boyhood and manhood at the age of eighteen that Maelstrom took ill and passed away quite suddenly, leaving his boys with nothing but each other. The estate they had lived on their whole lives belonged now to the boys’ cousin, Maelstrom’s older brother’s son, a man who had no interest in playing guardian to two young men of Starscream and Skywarp’s persuasion.

“I haven’t the first idea how to go about finding you appropriate husbands,” he had explained, kindly enough in his mind. “Better you go back to your mother’s family. They ought to know all about your kind, and that’s where your inheritance lies anyway.”

Some small mention had been made in Starscream’s rearing of the estate he was to inherit from his mother when he came of age, but he had never been there, nor had he ever met any of his relatives who lived there. Still, the thought of having an entire house and lands to his and his brother’s names after having lost so much was a comfort. Word was sent to their closest maternal relative, a middle-aged bachelor by the name of Steelrim Bryht who had been renting the property for some time, and he sent back an eloquent letter expressing his willingness to take the boys under his guardianship until Starscream came of age in a few years’ time. As it happened, the boys also had a pair of dowager great-aunts living at the estate who would take over their care and rearing.

“Won’t that be nice?” their cousin tried to cheer them. “It’s been so long since the two of you had a maternal touch in your lives.”

“They’re a couple of old bags who’ve never had children of their own. How maternal can they possibly be?” Starscream sneered, and their cousin didn’t talk much to him after that.

It was two months after their father’s death that Starscream and Skywarp climbed into a carriage with a few belongings and took the journey to Hallow Hill, a remote country in the north that it took several days of bouncing along poorly maintained roads to reach. They had their first glance of the eponymous hill the day before they reached the estate itself. That night they stayed in a little village on the shore of Hollow Lake, a great oval of dark, deep water rimmed by thickly forested hills. Starscream asked the innkeeper how much farther it was to the hill, and the man had given him a curious look.

“Are you a relation to the Bryhts?” he’d wanted to know, and Starscream had explained, rather haughtily, that he was the new young master of the estate. “Well, that’s Hallow HIll land there, young master,” the man had explained, pointing across the lake to a high, bald promontory that faced them from the other side, cliffs and bluffs tumbling haphazardly down it to the smooth surface of the water. “The tall rocks there, that’s the Hill itself. But it’ll take all morning to get around the lake and the forest. No roads go through the woods by the Hill. They’d dare not put a road there.”

My land, Starscream thought, a little dumbstruck. He hadn’t expected it to be so wild, nor so large.

It was nearing supper the next day when the boys finally arrived at the Hall, which was quite the oldest and most austere house Starscream had ever seen. Parts of it looked to have been built in the days when such houses still needed to function as fortresses, though many wings had clearly been added and renovated over the centuries.

The aunts came out to greet them warmly as they climbed down from the carriage, pulling them into tight embraces and cooing over the state of their clothes and their hair. Gracious and whitehaired, Moonlight Blanch was the elder of the two. Starscream thought perhaps he saw something of himself and his mother in her delicate build, still full of a lively grace at her advanced age. Moonlight’s younger sister, Prim Bryht, was big boned and grim by comparison, with a few streaks of black still visible in her gray hair. They ushered the boys into the Hall to the dining room, where supper and their new guardian awaited them.

Their cousin was a surprise. After hearing he was a middle-aged bachelor, Starscream had expected a red-faced, corpulent man at least as old as his father, but Steelrim Bryht had a pleasant face, and Starscream might have thought him handsome had he not sported ink-stained fingers, slightly bent spectacles, and a curled white wig that Skywarp stared at throughout their entire, brief introduction. Neither boy had never seen anyone but lawyers and grandfathers wear one. The reason for Steelrim’s continued solitude in life perhaps became further apparent when they were seated at the table for the meal and he produced a book, from which he showed no interest in emerging as the conversation picked up around him.

“It’s so nice to see new faces at Hallow Hill, isn’t it, Prim?” Aunt Moonlight beamed across the table at her great-nephews. Skywarp smiled shyly back while Starscream gave her a sour look over his water glass. He saw nothing worth smiling over yet.

“And what a lovely young… man you are,” Aunt Moonlight’s smile turned in Starscream’s direction specifically now. “Er… you do go by male references, I trust, dear?”

Starscream resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was used to the question. Androgynes who preferred female terms of address were increasingly rare, but they did exist. At least Moonlight had bothered to ask. It was more than he'd expected from someone of her age who'd likely never even seen an androgyne since she'd left society and returned to this backwater country some forty years ago.

“Yes,” he assured her. “We both do.”

“Well,” Prim Bryht spoke up, “I’m sure I’m not much acquainted with the ways of boys, but I trust you’re at least somewhat in touch with your… feminine sides.”

“We write each other once in a while,” Starscream told her, as confused at the question as his aunt seemed by the answer.

In truth, he had very little contact with what he suspected his great-aunts meant by his “feminine side” beyond his monthly reminders of its presence and the rare and somewhat confusing occasions he’d felt it stirring at the sight of a particularly burly farmhand. Daybreak had been the type to wear fine dresses and stitch intricate designs for his son’s dowry, but Maelstrom had never expected his sons to wear anything that wasn’t practical for a romp through the woods, which quite ruled out long skirts. Besides, fashion for androgynes had turned more toward wide trousers and short jackets than dresses of late anyway.

“You do look quite like your mother, dear,” Aunt Moonlight tried to get the conversation back on track. “Doesn’t he, Prim? I’m afraid we only had the pleasure of making Daybreak’s acquaintance a few times, but he was such a beauty.”

“He certainly favors his mother in build,” Aunt Prim answered her sister, “but I recall Daybreak being much fairer. You get your complexion from your grandfather, I imagine. Though I’m not sure where you get those striking eyes from.”

Starscream, who had grown accustomed to backhanded remarks about his dark complexion and strange, crimson-colored eyes, gave her one of his worst smiles. “They should bring up my resell value considerably, don’t you think?”

Aunt Moonlight gave him a shocked look before clearing her throat and turning to Skywarp. “I think you must favor your father, dear.”

Fair-haired and freckled, Skywarp had an expressive face and a force of will to match his brother’s, though his own impulsive comments tended to hit on impropriety out of accident more often than calculated wit.

“I shall never be a great beauty like Star,” he sighed now, with an air of melodrama. “It’s a pity. I should have liked to break men’s hearts. You don’t appreciate what you have, Star.”

This time, Starscream decided it was his turn to save the conversation, and hopefully break their aunts’ determination to analyze himself and his brother like prize mares.

“I was wondering, Aunt Moonlight,” he struck upon the first topic that came to mind, “how this land got its name. Since  _ hallow _ means ‘holy’, I had thought perhaps there was a church nearby, but I can’t imagine who would travel so far for mass.”

“Oh, Steelrim can tell you all about that,” his aunt seized onto the new topic with a note of relief. “Steelrim is quite a scholar, you know. He’s writing a book of family history, all about Hallow Hill.”

Starscream turned his attention down the table to their final dinner companion, who raised his pale eyes from his book to smile indulgently at Starscream.

“I don’t suppose someone of your age and gender is going to sit through a linguistic analysis,” he remarked.

Skywarp saw his brother’s face darken and spoke quickly to prevent a catastrophe.

“We’d love to hear about it,” he protested with a bright smile. “Star reads lots of books about boring things like emytology.”

“ _ Etymology _ ,” Starscream corrected. “The name comes out of Old English, doesn’t it? So it can’t date back to Roman rule, but it could certainly predate the Norman Conquest.”

Steelrim blinked at his ward with mild surprise. Starscream noticed an ink stain on the man’s nose and hoped Skywarp might mention it.

“So, we’ve read a book or two,” Steelrim beamed at him and set his book aside. “Yes, the word  _ hallow _ is Old English, but we don’t know that  _ hallow _ or  _ holy _ , is what was intended at all. Perhaps our ancestors meant  _ hollow _ . Some early documents call the peak behind this house Hollow Hill, and there are certainly caves throughout the area. And this would explain the existence of ‘Hollow Lake,’ which may have been a short way of saying ‘the lake by Hollow Hill.’”

Starscream opened his mouth to comment, but Steelrim plowed on, growing in enthusiasm.

“However, we aren’t even positive that peak is the original Hallow Hill at all! Near the Lodge House, where you’ll be staying, is a smaller hill with a flat, circular crown and a double circle of ancient oak trees at its top. It was obviously an important druidic center, and some scholars and locals alike suggest that this is the real Hallow Hill. In my own studies, I’ve concluded that this whole region was probably sacred to its early inhabitants. It has never been mined, the forests haven’t been logged, and the locals retain a tremendous superstitious lore about the area to this day. Whether it ever truly was holy or not, calling it so for hundreds of years has made people treat it as such. It’s a fascinating human phenomenon—a tenacious preservation of ignorance, wouldn’t you say, Master Quaesit?”

“Er… yes, I suppose,” Starscream agreed.

Steelrim gave him a broad smile that crinkled his eyes into pale half-moons behind his glasses before picking up his book once more, the treatise over as suddenly as it began. The conversation around him resumed, and Starscream thought he caught the man giving him curious glances over the top of his book for the remainder of the meal.

* * *

A half hour later, Skywarp and Starscream found themselves back out in the sunshine, facing another carriage ride. They were to go on to the smaller house, the Lodge, where their great-aunts lived and they were also to take up residency.

“It wouldn’t be proper for a young man like you to live in the same house as a bachelor such as myself,” Steelrim had explained the living arrangements.

The Hall faced a large, open green that held no features of interest beyond the flock of sheep that was grazing over the more distant portions of the lawn. The area near the Hall itself contained rigidly geometric pebbled walks, square garden beds, and unadorned bench seats set primly by the straight, tree-lined borders. But the ground to the sides and back of the house began rising at once into small, tumbled hills, and through the windows of the dining room the boys had seen tantalizing views of a shady terrace, moss-covered rock walls, and paths disappearing into the dim forest that reached down and enclosed the Hall on three sides.

It was a stark and wild contrast to the tame green meadows that had surrounded their fathers' estate, and Starscream could practically feel his little brother buzzing with excitement, no doubt at the thought of those secret paths winding through primeval woodland. Though he did his best to maintain an appearance of stoic indifference, Starscream couldn’t help but agree. There was a strange draw to these woods that made it difficult to climb into the carriage for the sedate jog over to the Lodge.

Fortunately, the ride proved more satisfying than they had expected. The gravel track passed the front of the Hall and rapidly left the depressing tidiness of the green behind. It skirted the edge of the forest and rose and fell with the uneven landscape, providing a view on one side of windblown meadows full of wildflowers and on the other of those gloomy, green-dappled forest depths that the boys were so eager to explore.

Starscream surveyed it all with an appraising possessiveness, wondering why his father had never brought him to inspect his inheritance sooner. Wild land it may have been, but it was vast and full of potential and, most importantly, his. He couldn’t wait to ramble over its hills and see what new varieties of flora and fauna he might find here to study, nor to discover the best spots in which to set up his telescope when it arrived in several weeks with the bulk of their belongings.

The track passed through a grassy orchard as it climbed a steady slope, and then the Lodge stood before them, shaded by large, well-trimmed trees.

Starscream and Skywarp stared up at the big white house. Skywarp was surprised at its size; having heard that he was to live in the “small Lodge house,” he had expected to see a two-room hut. The Lodge had three stories, the top one peeking out through small dormer windows tucked under a steep gray roof. The front door was exactly in the middle, and all the tall windows up and down were perfectly matched and symmetrical. Over their heads and over the house swung the thick boughs of the great shade trees, casting an ever-changing net of shadow and sun on the ground below. Starscream’s eyes tracked up their thick trunks to their mighty, solid crowns and felt a strange sense of strength and permanency radiating from them.

Overall, the Lodge was an ordinary square house designed to provide four spacious rooms on each floor with a hallway down the middle. The front door faced the straight hall and staircase, which began about ten feet inside it. Starscream, standing on the rug, could see right through to the back door, which stood open to let in the breeze. On his left was a parlor, on his right, a dining room, open to each other by the full width of the entry. Their walls began only at the staircase.

Houses take on the character of their inhabitants, and Starscream's initial impression was of tranquility and tidiness. Gauzy white curtains fluttered at the large glass windows, and soft, plump chairs and sofas gathered in the rooms. Tones of green, white, and blue predominated in the upholstery, and the walls were a soft gray-green. The cushioned chairs and quiet hues spoke of peace. The crystal-clear windows and perfect spotlessness spoke of industry.

Starscream immediately hated all of it. There was a stifling quality to its quiet order that seemed in harsh opposition to the untamed lands that surrounded it.

The two brothers trailed through the house after their great-aunts and saw everything there was to see, from the kitchen by the back door to the upstairs bedrooms. Prim and Moonlight had the two bedrooms on the left side of the upstairs hall, and the boys were given the ones on the right.

Starscream's room faced the front.

“We did think it would be splendid for a young man like you,” said Aunt Moonlight. “It has Grandmother's furniture, and Prim and I could just imagine you composing letters to a sweetheart at her desk or brushing your hair out at her mirror.”

Starscream wrinkled his nose at the room, already making plans for how he would smuggle enough potted plants and star charts into his room that not one stick of Grandmother’s ridiculously outdated furniture would be left visible. He would have thought that such antiquated pieces might have at least had vintage charm, but these were just tacky.

Skywarp had the back bedroom. “You'll never believe how many storms we have here, dear,” cautioned Aunt Prim. “Such wild country! If you wake in the night, my room is right across the hall. No need to dodge around the stairs when you're in a fright.”

Skywarp gave her his best impression of Starscream's phony smile and resisted the urge to point out that he was far too old now to be frightened of storms, nor that she would be the last person he would go to if he were.

* * *

The next several days saw the boys settle in and become part of the rhythm of life at Hallow Hill. Some demands were placed on them, but they were free to roam their new surroundings for hours every day. The two older women found their new charges more than a little exhausting, and it would be difficult to say who of the four felt most relieved whenever the boys burst out the door with a picnic hamper to go off on a long ramble.

Starscream did his best to occupy himself so that he wouldn’t be left to dwell much on his recent loss, dedicating much of his time to collecting cuttings off of local plants he liked the look of and seeing if he could figure how to coax them into life in pots and trays throughout the Lodge. He and Skywarp spent more time in one another’s company now than they had before their father’s death, though generally engaged in separate tasks. While Starscream was trimming his plants and mixing fertilizers, Skywarp would make rudimentary sketches of the beetles and bugs that crawled up their stalks, and while Starscream stared up at the stars, Skywarp would skip about and dance in their pale light to a music all his own.

It took them a week to find the druids' circle that their cousin had spoken of. They discovered it after supper one evening, quite close behind the Lodge. The forest path they were following began climbing a steep slope, and as they looked upward, they saw an evenly planted row of ancient oaks set in thick green turf. In the gaps between, they could see a further row of trees, but they could not see past the two rows together for the massiveness of the specimens. The enormous trunks, wider than the boys could span with their arms, formed a perfect barrier, protecting whatever lay beyond from careless eyes.

Curiously, the boys approached this barricade and slipped between its awesome sentinels. The tops of the trees, so close together for so many ages, had grown into one dense, continuous ring that no sunlight could pierce to fall on the intruders beneath, and yet the green turf continued underfoot, right up to the great trunks.

Inside the ring, the broad crown of the hill was almost flat. They could not see beyond the trees either to the distant hills or to the woods outside. It was like being in a huge room walled by living plants. Above them, past the tangled branches of the oaks, stretched a perfect circle of darkening twilight sky about seventy feet across. The lush turf formed a dense, soft carpet underneath, and small white field lilies sprang above it on long, thin stalks, like tiny stars scattered across a dark green sky.

Speechless for once in their lives, Starscream and Skywarp looked around. This was a silent place. No birds sang in the branches of the great trees, and Skywarp found no bugs crawling in the grass beneath. Slowly, they wandered to the very middle of the twilit circle and dropped down into the inviting turf.

“Do you think the druids build this place?” asked Skywarp.

“No, stupid.” Starscream knew that this was no ruined monument to a dead religion. The circle felt alive and aware with an almost magical force that seemed to welcome him home.

“But if the druids didn't make it, who did?”

“I don't know, Warp,” Starscream hummed as he stared up at the last drops of pink and gold adorning the clouds above them. “Perhaps our ancestors did. This place certainly seems to know I'm its master better than the Lodge or the Hall do. I'll bet it's a perfect star-gazing spot, too. Let's stay and watch them come out.”

Skywarp, lacking his brother's interest in astronomy, made some grumbling about being tired.

“Take a nap, then,” Starscream suggested, prodding him with an elbow, and his little brother rolled over to do just that.

As night fell on the tree circle, a glorious array of stars did indeed wink into existence in the ceiling of sky over their heads. Starscream gazed, enchanted, at the brilliant lights hanging above him. They had never seemed as beautiful as they did tonight.

After some time, Skywarp snorted awake beside him and rolled over to gasp at the glittering net shimmering in the ebony sky over their heads.

“We'd better go back,” he whispered. “The Aunts will be worried, and then they might not let us out after dinner again.”

Starscream sighed heavily, longing for the day in a few more years' time when he would answer to no one but himself, and eventually heaved himself up off the fragrant turf.

They crossed to the enormous trees, now black in their own deep shadows, and slipped between them to find the forest path again. It took some time before they hit upon it in the meager, dappled starlight. As they walked slowly homeward in the darkness, Starscream tried to remember the beauty of the stars, thinking to try and chart them when he got home, but a vague presence intruded on his thoughts. He began to peer into the shadows.

He couldn't hear or see anyone, but a part of him was sure that someone was there. Starscream rambled in the late twilight as often as he was allowed, and he had never been afraid of the dark, but now he reached for his brother's hand and held it tightly.

“What's wrong with you?” demanded Skywarp. “You're pinching me. We're not lost, you know. I can find the way home.”

Starscream stared intently back into the forest. “Warp, something's watching us!” he hissed.

“Oh?” The younger boy turned around and peered curiously into the deep gloom. “What? Where?”

“I don't know,” murmured his brother. “It followed us down the path. I can't see it, but it can see us. Can't you feel it?”

“No,” replied Skywarp with a shrug. “It's probably just a fox. Stop being dramatic and let's go. I don't want to get in trouble.”

And he towed his preoccupied brother across the Lodge lawn. At the door, Starscream stopped and looked back. The heavy shadows under every tree seemed full of menace. Once he was inside the house, the feeling left him, but it came back a little later as they talked in the parlor. The great-aunts never drew the heavy curtains, and Starscream stared suspiciously at one gauze-covered window after another, sitting stiffly and jumping slightly when addressed.

After a few minutes of this restlessness, his great-aunts began to watch him in some surprise. Frustrated, Starscream excused himself and went up to bed.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention when I first posted this, but the Airachnia who appears in this story is intended to be IDW's Black Airachnia, the fateweaver.

Nighttime became an ordeal for Starscream after this. Sometimes, he would be free of the feeling until bedtime, when he would begin to pace and brood under the conviction that something was watching him. He, who had always loved the stars, began to avoid looking out the windows after dark. Even in his bedroom on the second floor, he would wake in the night, uneasy. He would lie as still as he could under the covers, peering around the room and the darkness, and he began to have exhausting nightmares. When Starscream tried to explain his feelings to his great-aunts, they laughed at first and then looked puzzled. Hallow Hill was so remote that no one ever came or went across its grounds. The aunts never even locked the doors.

Prim watched Starscream with concern and decided that both boys needed more to do. They had been through a great deal, and they had too much time to dwell on it. She had already talked to the boys about the sorts of lessons they had learned and had found Starscream to be shockingly overeducated in what she considered “frivolous pursuits” for someone of his persuasion.

“I think it's sweet that he spent so much time with his father,” said Moonlight.

“Well, that's where his case of nerves has come from,” declared Prim. “All that book reading, all those obscure theories. It's enough to make anyone flighty and high-strung. Why, he's almost old enough to have a husband of his own by now, and he's never been out in society.”

“He may not wish to have a husband, Prim,” Moonlight reminded her sister. “He’s an androgyne, not a woman. He may choose to continue living as a man for the rest of his life, or he may marry another androgyne and be husband to him. He certainly has enough land for it.”

“And yet he needs to be prepared if he  _ does _ decide to become someone’s wife!” the other woman insisted. “If you ask me, Moonlight, both these boys have been neglected. No man knows how to raise future wives properly.”

Prim began teaching the boys practical skills, such as how to plan meals, keep household accounts, and manage servants. Over time, she and Moonlight observed with satisfaction that Starscream was settling down. It was true that he slept more soundly at night because he was busier during the day, but he continued to be haunted by the powerful feeling that something was watching him. He couldn't avoid it or ignore it, but he kept it a secret from his aunts in hopes that maintaining the appearance of tranquility would put an end to the drudgery they were subjecting him to.

* * *

As high summer came, Aunt Prim took Starscream to pay a call on his guardian. The call, he discovered, concerned him deeply. Prim wanted Steelrim to take Starscream into town for the winter season. It was time, she had said, for Starscream’s guardian to fulfill his responsibilities and take the boy out into Society. There was much that had to be arranged.

Steelrim didn’t seem to take the call well. He didn’t see why any young person should put aside important pursuits such as reading and study to make a fool of oneself at fashionable parties, and seemed especially thrown by the concept that his cousin may have some interest in becoming better acquainted with other young men. He paced up and down the room as he and Prim argued, and at one point he turned imploringly on Starscream himself.

“You aren’t tired of country life already, are you?” he demanded. “I can’t imagine you’re the sort who’s eager to go off skipping and gossiping with a whole bevy of brainless belles.”

Starscream wasn’t in the least tired of country life and the thought of parties exhausted him possibly more than his guardian, but he was more than a little thrilled at the idea of commissioning a full new wardrobe of the latest fashions. Whatever his thoughts on dresses for everyday wear, the idea of elaborate and colorful silk gowns like the ones he’d seen his mother wear out to evening parties had always tempted him. Of course, he didn’t say so to his frustrated guardian, but maybe Steelrim saw it in his face. If so, it did nothing to improve his temper.

After the awkward interview, Aunt Prim hurried off to speak to Mrs. Bigelow, the housekeeper, leaving Starscream to wander the Hall alone. The activity never failed to put Starscream out of sorts. The Hall might belong to him, but it never seemed to want him. Faces of animals slain by various forebears stared down at him through glassy eyes and what few portraits and tapestries adorned the stone walls were in muted, austere tones. How he longed for the bright splashes of color his mother had left in his childhood home—the tapestries and paintings of summer festivals and bright countrysides.

He found himself gravitating toward the one painting he’d found in that vast Hall that held some interest to him: a portrait that hung above the huge fireplace in the upstairs parlor of two boys, both around thirteen years old, stood hand in hand before a forest landscape. The portrait artist had done a remarkable job at capturing the boys’ spirits on the canvas. They were androgynes, dressed in fine old-fashioned frocks, a rose tucked into the pocket of the taller of the two. Dark-haired and green-eyed, he met Starscream’s gaze as if he had a scandalous secret that he was laughing at Starscream through the ages for not knowing. The other, smaller and darker in complexion, gazed down with solemn, deep red eyes. He did not smile, as though he had already learned those lessons in life that make smiling difficult.

Starscream stared at the red-eyed boy thoughtfully, wondering why it was that he and this one boy alone in the Hall of their ancestors shared so many traits.

“He looks very like you, don’t you think?”

Steelrim stood a few feet behind Starscream, having entered the room without the boy’s notice. He met his cousin’s offended glance a little sheepishly, but he walked up beside him to study the picture all the same, hands behind his back.

“I mean the one on the left. The darker boy, Clarity. The resemblance is quite startling. I’ve thought so ever since you came here.”

He paused but Starscream said nothing, hoping that Steelrim might take a hint and leave. He wasn’t so curious about his relation to the boy in the painting that he wanted to sit through one of the man’s odious treatises on family history right now.

Steelrim didn’t seem to catch on. “Sunwave is the boy on the right. He’s the son of Dentwood Bryht. His father and my great-grandfather were brothers. I am the last of an old and proud family, Master Quaesit.”

“Last?” Starscream sneered. “What are Skywarp and I? Chopped liver?”

“Oh, Clarity on the left is indeed your great-grandmother—he and Sunwave were both androgynes like yourself and your brother—but Clarity is related to no one in the family. For all we know, he might have fallen from the moon.”

Starscream blinked, taken aback. This was the first he’d heard of it.

“The story goes,” Steelrim continued, “that one spring night old Bryht went walking with his son. Sunwave was about three then. His mother had died soon after he was born, and old Bryht doted on his only child, rather the way I take it your father did on you. They paused at the druids’ circle. Have you been there? A lovely spot at twilight. There Bryht sat while his little son ran about picking flowers. He listened to the boy’s happy prattle and fell to dreaming and thinking of his dead wife for a few minutes. When he rose to call his son to him, what do you think he saw, Master Quaesit?” Steelrim lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Now there were two little boys playing in the moonlight.”

Starscream snorted. “And you expect me to believe this?”

“It’s no secret,” his cousin assured him. “Prim or Moonlight or even anyone in the village can tell you the same story if you ask. But no one knows where Clarity Bryht came from, who he was, nor even his real name. He appeared just like a child in the old tales, like the changeling he and Sunwave both were.”

Starscream stiffened at the familiar slur, but Steelrim didn’t even seem aware he’d insulted the boy. His handsome features twisted into a mournful expression.

“Because, sadly, the two boys did not both survive, Master Quaesit. When they were about sixteen, Sunwave died suddenly. No one knows how. But old Bryht took Clarity and left Hallow Hill that very night, and neither of them ever came back.

“Dentwood Bryht had adopted Clarity, and now he was all the old man had. When Clarity died in childbirth, as too many of your kind do, Bryht took his son to raise. Bryht left everything he had to that son when he himself died: Hallow Hill and all it contained. It went to a man who had never seen it, who could never appreciate it—who never even once visited it. My family, Dentwood Bryht’s brother’s family, has leased the house ever since. Clarity’s son was your maternal grandfather, and Hallow Hill now belongs to you.” He spoke casually, as if none of this earth shattering news meant much to him at all. “Oh, we call each other cousins, Master Quaesit, but we’re no relation, really.”

Starscream stared at him, wide-eyed and nostrils flaring, as the man held his hands out to the fire with a vague sort of smile.

“It’s a sad fate for our family, wouldn’t you say? I sometimes wonder how the founders of this house would feel if they could learn about this strange turn of events,” he mused. “That their own flesh and blood would have to pay rent just to live in their own home. Pay rent to strangers who don’t even care for the land. Yes,” he added sadly, rubbing his hands, “I’m the last of a proud line.”

“Such a very proud line,” Starscream sneered, his swirling emotions quickly resolving themselves into anger, “whose sole heir has nothing better to do with his life than taunt orphans.”

Steelrim looked up from the fire, blinking in confusion, and Starscream gave him a charming smile.

“I do hope there is enough money in books on etymology that you’ll be able to continue paying rent to me when I come of age, Cousin Steelrim,” he simpered, and then turned and did his best not to flee from the room.

* * *

Everyone noticed a marked change in Starscream after that, though no one understood it. He was moodier and more withdrawn than before, snapping at even Skywarp when the boy tried to draw him out of his room for jaunts into the woods.

Prim and Moonlight were sure Starscream's restlessness was due to disappointment. Prim assured him that Steelrim would give in to their arguments and take him into town, but Starscream had even less desire to go than he had originally. In the aftermath of his guardian's disclosure, new clothes had gone quite out of his head.

Despite his bold comments to Steelrim, Starscream wasn't unaffected by the other man's words. He now felt more than ever that lack of belonging whenever he was inside the houses, but the continued sense of being watched made him reluctant to leave them. On top of that, Steelrim's use of the term “changeling” kept sticking in his mind. It wasn't as bad as some of the things he'd been called over the years, but it was a definite proof of his guardian's prejudice, and it made him more sensitive than he might have been to the constant casual remarks and misunderstandings from his great-aunts, particularly Prim, who continued to wage war on his solely masculine upbringing. Starscream’s hair, which he normally kept styled around jaw-length, had grown nearly to his shoulders in the months since his father’s death, and when he mentioned he’d like to have it cut, Aunt Prim simply scoffed at him.

“Why should you wish to rid yourself of those lovely curls?” she demanded. “You ought to grow them further still! Just look how lovely your brother’s are! And think how pleased your suitors will be with them.”

Thus followed a fight that left the whole house shaking and stifled in awkward silence for several days after. Starscream considered taking a knife to his curls himself, but shuddered at the thought of how ragged and uneven they’d look if he did. Thereafter, they became a further burden on his already sour mood every time he had to brush and set them for the day, and he began to avoid looking in the mirror.

Starscream knew that the revelation that they weren't actually family would affect Skywarp even worse than himself, so he said nothing about what he had learned. Yet Skywarp had never been able or willing to take a hint, and his constant questioning was just one more reason that Starscream began to retreat into his room even more. When Steelrim came to the lodge for supper one evening, Starscream feigned an illness and kept to his room until he’d left for the Hall once more, although this earned him a lengthy lecture from Aunt Prim about how disappointed his cousin had been to miss him and endless complaints from Skywarp about having had to suffer Steelrim’s self-satisfied prattle alone for the entire evening.

Continued restless nights combined with isolated days spent in his own frazzled mind started to take their toll on him. Prim noticed the pale cheeks and shadows under her nephew's eyes. Lips tight, she called the doctor, but neither he nor Prim could find anything wrong. Between them, they dosed Starscream with a variety of strong and well-meaning remedies that the boy only pretended to follow.

The weather changed with the approaching end of summer, and clouds gathered over the Hill. One breathless afternoon, nothing could bring relief to spirit or body. A gray haze hung in the air, too diffuse to be called clouds, but too thick to be called anything else. The sun shone through it as a brilliant white spot, and not a whisper of wind stirred. As evening came, no thunder rumbled in the hills, and no breeze sprang up to fan their clammy cheeks. The sun was leaving without a blaze of color. The thick haze just seemed to swallow it.

After supper, Skywarp couldn't stand it any longer.

“Please, Star,” he begged his brother. “Let's walk up into the hills and see if we can't find some cool wind somewhere. The Aunts won't let me go by myself, and you haven't been out of the house in days!”

Starscream agreed only because he was too malaised to argue at that point, and Moonlight and Prim were so pleased that he was showing interest in doing anything that they agreed, so long as the boys were back before dark.

“Storms are sure to follow a day like this, even if they are taking their time in building,” she warned. “Stay out of the woods, watch the sky, and come back at the first sign of bad weather.”

The boys headed down through the orchard, intent on the rocky meadows beyond. Skywarp led the way with his older brother trailing vaguely behind him. The younger boy was sure that if they climbed to the top of one of those grassy hills, they were bound to find a breeze, and that it would help snap his brother out of the fugue he'd been in lately.

However, at the top of their meadow, they found no breath stirring. The twilight was blending with the strange, close sky to form a dark brown haze, and the grass at their feet shone with a blond shimmer, as if the few rays of light left could not rise above the surface of the ground. Landmarks even a few yards away were melting into the brown gloom. Purple lightning bloomed across the dark sky before them.

“We'd better go back,” sighed Starscream.

They waded dejectedly through the grass back down the hillside. Ahead of them in the thick dusk stood the stone wall of the meadow, but no gate appeared as they followed its edge.

“Wait, Star, we must have gotten turned around,” Skywarp decided. “The gate's over there.”

As their fence formed a corner with another stone fence, the gate appeared a few feet from them, white boards gleaming in the dim light, and Starscream frowned at it suspiciously. He had walked these meadows any number of times this summer, and he would have sworn there had never been a gate here before. They hurried over to it nonetheless as another shining purple curtain shook across the sky, and swinging the gate shut, they sped up the little road before them.

A couple of minutes later, they stopped short in bewilderment. Another stone fence blocked their path. But how was this possible? They should be at the orchard by now. The two boys climbed a slight rise and looked around in all directions, trying to make out the shapes of trees that marked the orchard. Some faint light still remained—enough to see each other's faces, grayed in the deep dusk—but now they couldn't distinguish the black horizon from the black cloud banks. The lightning, undulating over the swollen masses of the clouds, was distant and too weak to see by. It gleamed silently, first in front and then behind them.

“This makes no sense,” Starscream huffed, thinking over the way they had come. “All we had to do was walk back down the hill, through the gate, and up the orchard path. We've missed the gate somehow.”

“There must be two in that meadow,” Skywarp shrugged. “If we follow the road back and look for the other gate out of that field, it should take us to the orchard.”

His brother followed him reluctantly as he set off down the hill with that plan in mind, but now their light was gone. They found the little road again more by feel than by sight, but it didn't lead them to a gate. It turned and skirted along another stone wall, went through a tumbled-down gap, and lost itself altogether in a narrow draw.

Again and again, Starscream tried to find the right path in the darkness, making them retrace their steps, but each time they did, they lost their old landmarks. Everything seemed to shift in the darkness around them, and Starscream was beginning to take personal offense. They had no idea which direction they faced or where home was. They could only tell that they were moving farther and farther from the shelter of the woodlands. The fields were flattening out, and stone fences were becoming rare. Eventually, even Skywarp's high spirits began to break.

There followed a time that was one of the worst in their lives. Method was gone, and landmarks forgotten. They blundered along through the dense blackness, snapping at one another but keeping their hands firmly clasped so that they wouldn't get separated, following any path they crossed. Lightning seemed to be all around them now, and every white flash lit up a dreary landscape that held no familiar sight. One black field followed another. They might be one mile from home, or they might be ten. They certainly felt that they had walked a hundred.

As they stumbled along, footsore and exhausted, Skywarp let out an excited squeak and suddenly tugged Starscream around. Far across the fields, a light was shining. It wavered, winked out, and then showed up again. The boys turned and scrambled toward it.

The light was a bonfire, blazing up in the darkness with a reddish glow, and figures moved back and forth before it. The fire lit up no house nor barn. It appeared to be built in the middle of an empty field. Starscream began to watch the figures by the fire uneasily. Gypsies? Vagabonds?

Two men stood by the fire in long cloaks, their hoods pulled down over their faces, which spoke perhaps of hunting and the stormy weather. Two or three shorter figures moved about as well. Children? They had to be, but there was something odd about their shapes.

As the boys drew nearer, Starscream noticed four horses standing patiently beyond the fire. They appeared to be saddled. Hunting, then, but who would be out on such a night? And on his land no less? He began to slow down, not so anxious to walk out of the darkness toward this strange group, but Skywarp, clutching his hand, began to speed up. Warmth, light, people—these held no fears for the younger boy. He broke into a trot, pulling his brother behind him.

The party turned, sensing their approach. One of the figures broke away from the firelit circle and bustled toward them.

“Oh, look! Two fine young boys right out of the storm! How portentous! Do let old Airachnia tell your fortune, dears.”

“Gypsies!” whispered Skywarp excitedly as Airachnia hurried up.

Starscream stared down, astonished, at the shortest woman he had ever seen. Airachnia came up only a little past his waist, but her small, stocky body did not appear to be hunched or twisted. The old face was seamed into countless wrinkles, and the black eyes snapped and sparkled in the firelight.

“Here,” she said, capturing Starscream's hand in her own surprisingly large one, “come by the fire so I can see your pretty face.”

Starscream tugged his hand back, glancing uneasily at the other members of the party. The two men stood nearby. One was only a little taller than he, but the other man towered over him, taller and broader than any Starscream had seen in his short life. His stomach swooped with something a little more than nerves at the sight. Perhaps they had been conversing before, but now they were silent, watching Airachnia and the two boys.

“We don't have any money,” he said loudly, keeping his gaze fixed on the two men.

They were draped in the black cloaks and hoods he had noticed earlier, and he could see nothing at all of their faces. This was prudent, given the coming storm, but it irked Starscream to be seen and not to see. He wished he had a cloak of his own.

Airachnia meanwhile made a dismissive noise.

“I did not ask for it. Come warm yourselves. You must be half-frozen.”

Starscream continued to hesitate, thinking of tales he'd heard of strange nomads and bandits who took young men captive to extract ransoms from their families, but Skywarp was already bounding toward the bonfire and he couldn't allow his brother to fall victim alone. He stepped forward, and the tiny woman captured his hand once more when he'd reached the fire, peering at it and studying it intently before he could snatch it back again.

“Not every young man has a hand like this,” she announced, and Starscream heard chuckles from the men. “But, dear,” she said, ignoring them, “I see danger in this hand. Danger from someone very close to you.” Now the men roared with laughter, and Airachnia whirled on them, her lined face scrunched in stern disapproval. “Be quiet, the two of you! I'm very serious.”

“I don't believe in fortune telling,” Starscream sniffed haughtily, giving the two men a distasteful look of his own as he folded his arms to keep his hands out of the woman's reach.

“What about me?” demanded Skywarp eagerly, holding out his hand to the old woman. “Do you see danger in my hand?”

Old Airachnia took his small palm and turned it toward the fire.

“And such a lively thing you are, my dear!” she said to Skywarp. “Still a long way from marriage, aren't you? Well, that can't be helped, and one does grow, you know.”

Skywarp giggled over this odd speech, but Starscream frowned. Hugging his arms about himself, he stepped back from the firelight and eyed the two men. They had turned away now and were talking in quiet tones. He couldn't catch what they were saying, but the taller one threw his head back and laughed at something the short one said, a deep, gravelly noise that twisted in Starscream's gut. He noted too as the man laughed that he carried one shoulder higher than the other.

“Your palm speaks of tears early but laughter late,” Airachnia summed up grandly. “That's as good as a palm can say. You have a lovely, open nature, child.”

“Oh, Star, look!” Skywarp called excitedly, and Starscream turned to see a huge black tomcat approaching the fire. It rubbed its head against Skywarp's knee, its velvet coat shining in the light.

Starscream's breath caught in his throat. Surely the cat was four times—no, six times—larger than the largest cat he'd ever seen!

“Isn't he beautiful?” squealed Skywarp, kneeling to tickle its chin. The cat was almost eye to eye with him. “Oh, I  _ do _ wish the Aunts would let us keep pets!”

“Miaow?” the cat said plainly, and that was exactly what it sounded like: a  _ miaow _ said by a person imitating a cat. Starscream shook his head and stared hard at the giant feline. Perhaps he was dreaming?

“Oh, scat, Thundercracker!” scolded Airachnia, waving her big hands. “Such a nuisance you are, really! Go on!”

The cat scampered away, and a small boy came out of the shadows to throw wood on the fire. Starscream thought he saw a beard on his face as the boy turned in his direction. He'd had enough of this madness.

“Thundercracker...” Skywarp was coaxing, stepping toward the shadows where the cat had disappeared. Starscream caught him by the arm and pulled him around, turning to the old woman.

“Thank you so much for the fortunes,” he began firmly, “but what—”

“Oh, I know all about it, dears!” Airachnia interrupted kindly. “Two handsome young boys lost on a wild night, scared and tired, looking for the way home. You let old Airachnia take care of that. We'll take you home, don't worry. Can't have you out in a storm like this, no. And the only question is, who will take whom? Let's see, where did they go? What's your name, dear? Star? And who will take Star home, eh?”

The taller man was leading his horse, a large gray hunter that any gentleman might be proud to own. Starscream noticed that he limped slightly. That, along with the high shoulder. Old age? His posture was unaffected, and he carried himself with dignity. He couldn't be old; he had laughed like a young man, and when he spoke, his voice was not an old man's voice. It was rich and deep, naturally commanding, and made Starscream’s mouth go a little dry.

“Don't worry Airachnia. I'll take your Star home, of course.” Amused and tolerant. Amused at what? The old woman? Their silliness in getting lost?

“It's Star _ scream _ ,” he corrected petulantly, but was ignored.

“Oh, Megatron!” breathed Airachnia delightedly, turning her twinkling black eyes on him.

Starscream felt again that sense of unease. Why the delight and excitement over a simple, good-hearted gesture? The man brought his horse up to Starscream wordlessly and turned to check the saddle. For a moment, the boy could see nothing but a black cloak. Good cloth, he could tell. Expensive cloth, generously cut. Certainly not the cloak of a gypsy or vagabond. Big, gloved hands pulled down the stirrup. Starscream looked more closely. The right hand had six fingers.

“Wait! You... you don't know where we live,” he pointed out, taking a step back. “How can you promise to take us home if you don't know where we live?”

The man paused for a fraction of a second and then continued his work without looking up. Starscream turned quickly to repeat the objection to Airachnia, but Skywarp blurted out helpfully, “Yes, we live in the Hallow Hill Lodge. Do you know where that is? Are we very far from there?”

“Of course we know where you live, dears,” replied Airachnia with a chuckle. “Do you think anyone in this country doesn't know of the pretty androgynes come to live with the two old ladies up in the forest? We've not got much to gossip over around here.”

Starscream's mood instantly soured further still.

“Now, let's see,” Airachnia continued. “Megatron, shouldn't Barricade take the little one along? Such a receptive nature, such pluck.”

“I think so,” replied that amused, amiable voice. “It's probably for the best. So, ready?”

And he turned to Starscream, putting out his hands to boost the boy up onto his horse. Skywarp was already stroking the horse's neck, eyes round with delight.

“No!” said Starscream, stepping back and treading on his brother's foot. “I—I prefer to walk, thank you.”

A silence swept across the little group.

“Oh, Star!” Skywarp gasped.

The rider dropped his hands slowly and seemed to stare down at Starscream from beneath his hood. He was a full head taller than the boy.

“Really,” he said distinctly, all amusement gone from that commanding voice. His manner was suddenly fair glacial.

Starscream forced himself to hold up his head and face the giant of a man as the blood rushed through his cheeks in a tingling wave. He certainly had reason enough to refuse—the embarrassment of sharing the saddle with another man at his age, the strangeness of what he could see of the man's appearance, and the inescapable but somewhat insane impression in the pit of his gut that if he got on that horse he would never see daylight again—and he would not be faced down by strangers. Something was wrong here; he knew it. He refused to be a fool for them.

“Yes,” he replied as calmly and formally as he could. “You will lead my brother and me to the Hallow Hill Lodge, where you will be handsomely rewarded for your troubles, if that is your aim.”

The hooded man continued to stare at him for a long moment. Then he gave a short bark of laughter.

“Well, well, how intriguing! No,” he continued firmly over Airachnia's spluttered protests. “We will certainly humor the cautious young man. Barricade, I'll not need you. I believe one horse is sufficient to point out the way.” He swung up into the saddle. “Now, shall we begin our walk,” he added to the two boys. “Or, that is—” he went on, bending toward Skywarp. “I assume that you  _ prefer _ to walk, too?”

“I do not!” said Skywarp decidedly, glaring at his brother. He caught the rider's arm, who swung the boy easily up before himself.

“Warp!” shouted Starscream, panicked, but it was too late.

The man settled Skywarp comfortably and put the horse into a plodding walk. Starscream stood for a second, hands shaking, unsure what he had expected, then he had to scramble after them.

The darkness pressed in around them as they left the bonfire behind. Lightning flickered and flashed. Megatron's good humor seemed to have returned, and he soon had Skywarp telling him all about life at the Lodge. Starscream stumbled along at the horse's flank, trying to keep up as his temper and anxiety took turns spiking inside him.

“So, your name is Warp. I'm surprised then your brother isn't called Weft,” he said. This notion caught Skywarp's fancy powerfully, and he couldn't stop giggling.

“My name is Skywarp Quaesit, but my brother calls me Warp. I always thought it was like 'twist' but perhaps I did come off the loom!”

Starscream tripped over a root and thought Skywarp sounded like an idiot.

“Isn't it funny how humans name a child one thing in order to call it something else? So many names. It's like a game. Warp's a new one. Star—now, that's a name everyone knows.”

They were walking through a field of weeds now, which were up to Starscream's waist, and he kept slipping on the long stalks. “Mister Quaesit,” he muttered through clenched teeth, but Megatron heard him. He must have very good ears.

“Oh, hello, Star, are you all right down there? Are you enjoying your walk? So, young Master Quaesit. How convenient. You have one name for friends and another for enemies.”

Skywarp giggled again. This man was certainly making a hit with him.

“I do not have a name for enemies,” Starscream answered sharply, wishing that he did. “Polite society dictates the use of a person's name.” He emphasized  _ polite _ ; he just couldn't help himself. “I am Star to my immediate family, Starscream to our other relatives, and Mister Quaesit to strangers.”

“Oh, good, Starscream,” came the cheerful reply.

Really, this was intolerable.

“I can keep calling you Starscream and still be part of  _ polite _ society. I'm family, you know. Steelrim Bryht of Hallow Hill is a relative of mine. His grandfather and my mother were cousins. Their fathers were brothers.”

“Really?” exclaimed Skywarp excitedly. “I didn't know we had any more relatives.”

Neither had Starscream. He felt his mortification could not go further. Perhaps this man had been on the way to visit his cousin. Of course he would have known about the two wards, and would doubtless report to Steelrim that Starscream had been as flighty and high-strung as the aunts seemed to think he was. Not to mention, Starscream would then have to encounter this cad again.

But why had Megatron been so rude? Why the hood, the wordless meeting? Really, it was his fault Starcream had made such a colossal blunder. He stuck his nose in the air as he continued on.

“I'm afraid if you're Mr. Bryht's relative, you're no relative of mine,” he snapped before realizing what he was saying.

“What?” demanded Skywarp, and, “Really?” exclaimed his tormenter. He reined in the horse and turned to face Starscream. “What do you mean, you're not a Bryht? I thought you were living with your great-aunts.”

“It's old news, really, Warp,” Starscream sighed, looking up through the darkness at the pale smudge that was all he could distinguish of his brother's face. “Our great-grandmother was adopted into the family, that's all.”

There was a pause. Then Megatron urged the horse back into a walk.

“I can't say I'm sorry,” he said thoughtfully. “New blood is very good for the Hill. But which great-grandmother are you talking about?”

Taken aback by the contrast between this reaction and Steelrim Bryht’s obvious disappointment in Starscream’s lack of blood connection to the land he’d inherited, the boy told the story of Clarity's adoption, Sunwave's death, and their own consequent arrival, but his frustration returned when Megatron laughed at all the wrong places.

“That's not how my mother told the story, Starscream,” he said carelessly. “I wouldn't believe everything that fool Bryht tells you.”

Skywarp snorted delightedly, but Starscream was confused.

“Do you mean you think he lied about the adoption?” he asked, struggling along by the horse's side.

“Oh, no. That's the only thing I do believe, but what a thing to tell you. Poor, Star!” he teased. “I don't think Bryht likes you at all.”

If he calls me Star one more time, thought Starscream. I'll do something truly horrible.

“We don't like him, either,” confided Skywarp heatedly. “He's just hateful, with his long words, and his  _ hallow hill _ , and his  _ hollow hill _ , and his linguistic persistence of ignorance.”

“His what now?” Starscream muttered under his breath, wondering where Skywarp had picked up that particular phrase.

“He's been explaining everything for you, has he?” Megatron seemed highly amused. “Tell me, what did he say about the Hill?”

Skywarp went into a somewhat confused rendition of their cousin's speech on the place-names, and this time Megatron laughed at all the right places.

“Well, Child of the Loom,” he announced, “almost every bit of that is wrong. Completely and thoroughly wrong. Pigheaded. Would you like to know why it's really called Hollow Lake?”

“Yes!” exclaimed Skywarp.

“It's called Hollow Lake—because it's hollow.”

There was a momentary pause.

“Now, what does that mean?” Skywarp burst out as Starscream gave a derisive scoff.

“It's just hollow, that's all.”

“How is it supposed to be hollow?” demanded Skywarp. “You're just being silly!”

“Or idiotic,” Starscream added.

“No,” the man replied pleasantly. “I assure you, I never lie. Now, that's a funny thing, lying. If you notice, Warp, most humans can't do without it. They consider it an essential component of—how shall I call it?— _ polite _ society.”

Starscream set his teeth, wondering when this interminable journey would end.

“Humans lie to each other constantly. They mean to. They think it best. They tell you what a clever child you are when they mean someone should muzzle you, and they tell one another how handsome they look when they think they look absurd. They believe they're doing the world a favor by lying. Why, take your brother as a case in point.”

I won't say a word, Starscream promised himself stoically, and Skywarp rushed to defend his brother against his newfound favorite.

“Star doesn't lie!” he said indignantly.

“Oh, doesn't he?” answered Megatron, sounding much amused. “Well, Warp, perhaps he doesn't lie to you, but such is the frail nature of humans that he simply couldn't help himself. Imagine”—he lowered his voice dramatically—“as he stood by the bonfire tonight, he saw outlandish and otherworldly sights, and when I came toward him to lift him onto this horse here, he knew—he just  _ knew— _ that if he let me put him onto this horse, he'd be galloped away beyond the world we know into some strange, shadowy underworld.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “And not one of the mortals on this earth would ever see him again.”

Skywarp went off into gales of laughter. Starscream felt a swift chill run through him. How could this stranger know what he had felt? He hadn't even known it himself, but that was it exactly, down to the last detail.

“And so,” continued Skywarp's storyteller cheerfully, “what on earth could your brother say? Could he say, I think you are about to steal me for what awful ends I know not? No, he is a human. He fell back on the  _ polite _ lie. And so he said”—and here he took on a haughty tone—“I prefer to walk.”

Starscream forgot his promise to keep quiet. “Do you take me for a complete fool?” he demanded.

“Oh, no,” the rider assured him. “You are a man of rare perception. Not one person in a hundred—maybe a thousand—would have realized in time. I find myself wondering,” he added thoughtfully, “just how you managed it.”

Starscream scowled at this strange speech, but was too tired to worry over it now. If the walk continued much longer, he was afraid he would collapse. It felt as if he had never done anything else but stumble through blackness.

“And here we are,” concluded Megatron. They came up a rise. The orchard trees loomed out at them. Gravel crunched underfoot. And in another minute, there stood the Lodge itself, solid and comforting, with golden light streaming out of all the downstairs windows. The rider swung down from the saddle and lifted Skywarp to the ground.

“Off you go,” he told the boy. “I stay here.”

“But won't you come in, Mr. Megatron?” begged Skywarp. “I know the Aunts would love to meet you.”

“Oh, I know them,” he answered carelessly. “I remember when they first came here. A pretty young thing the blond was then, I assure you! But newly widowed. That was a real pity,” he added feelingly. “No, I'll come in another time.”

“Goodbye, then, and thank you for the ride!” Skywarp wrung his hand and dashed up the path.

The man turned to Starscream, who stood hesitating, almost too tired to walk farther. Now that they were back in the light again, he found the other's cloak and hood insulting. He could make out nothing about him, while the man seemed to know everything about him.

“Starscream, you look terrible,” Megatron said sincerely. “You've completely exhausted yourself. Well, you won tonight, and I'm not a good loser. I'm not used to it. But until next time”—and he held out his six-fingered hand.

Starscream shook his head and put his hands behind his back. He glared up at the other man, beside himself with indignation. He said firmly, “I hate to appear rude—”

“No, you don't.” Megatron laughed. “Oh, I know what's bothering you,” he teased before Starscream could turn away in disgust. “The cloak and hood. It's been on your nerves all evening, hasn't it? I'd guess you've been imagining all sorts of horrors.”

This is just another way to goad me, Starscream thought grimly, but the man was absolutely right.

Megatron tugged back his hood and examined the boy's stunned expression. He watched Starscream's dark cheeks grow pale, his lips bloodless, and grinned in delighted amusement.

“You imagined all sorts of horrors. But maybe not this one.” And he swung back into the saddle and rode away.


	4. Chapter Three

“Mr. Megatron brought us home,” Skywarp said from Aunt Moonlight's arms. “He's so nice, he let me ride his horse, and it was such a beauty, too! We should invite him over to say thank you.”

Aunt Prim knelt before the fire, heating water for tea. Never mind that it had been steamy all day; with the thunderstorms around, the air at the Lodge had turned gusty and chill. Besides, Aunt Prim believed in treating any case of accidental contact with inclement weather as if the victim had just been dragged out of a snowbank.

“Who's Mr. Megatron, dear?” asked Aunt Moonlight, yawning and smoothing back Skywarp's tousled hair. It was one o'clock in the morning, and both aunts had been too frantic to sleep.

“Oh, you know, Mr. Bryht's cousin. He knows all about you. He said you were a pretty young thing, Aunt Moonlight, when you first came here.”

“How nice of him to say that, dear,” she answered, “but I can't place who he would be.”

Just as Skywarp opened his mouth to explain, the door slammed loudly. They looked up, startled, to see Starscream standing against it, a Starscream they had never seen before. It wasn't just that his clothes were damp, filthy, and torn. It wasn't even that his hair straggled wildly about his dirt-smudged face. It was the ghastly color of that face and the glittering eyes full of unshed tears. He stared back at them for a few seconds, his chest heaving as he struggled for breath.

“Draw the curtains! Draw the curtains!” was the first thing he managed to say.

Skywarp ran to comply while the Aunts hustled his brother to the couch. They pulled off his shoes and jacket and piled blankets on him, but when Aunt Moonlight brought him a cup of tea, he could barely hold it, his hands shook so much. He gasped and shivered and alarmed his aunts extremely.

Prim wrapped Skywarp in a blanket and made him drink a cup of tea, too.

“But, Aunt Prim, there's nothing wrong with me,” protested Skywarp. “I don't know what's wrong with Star, I really don't. He and Mr. Megatron were quarreling a little, but I think that's really Star's fault because he was rude to him. What happened to you, Star? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Starscream let out a sarcastic little laugh, reflecting that he probably did. The memories of the bonfire and the journey whirled around in his head like fragments of one of his nightmares. He gulped the hot drink, feeling its warmth spread through him, and looked at the cozy room. Everything here was so real, so solid. Outside he could hear rain lashing the windows, thunder rolling and advancing, the wind howling in the trees. The storm had finally struck.

“Skywarp,” said Aunt Prim. “I want you to tell Moonlight and me everything that happened tonight. And, Starscream, I want you just to listen for once. Start right at the beginning and go on till the end, and don't leave anything out.”

Skywarp had been waiting practically his whole life for such an invitation. He had a world-class story and a perfect audience, and his brother was not to say a word. He started at the beginning and went on till the end. He didn't omit a thing. He didn't even forget to tell them that their other nephew was a pigheaded fool.

“Well, Starscream, I can certainly understand your being tired and upset,” Moonlight said cautiously. “But—did anything else happen, dear? That Skywarp's left out?”

“Yes,” Starscream said, taking a breath. “After Warp left, Mr. Megatron said goodby to me. No, he said… he said until next time.” He thought about that for a second, and his eyes narrowed. “And then I wouldn't shake hands with him because he'd been so rude. So he laughed and said I was just upset because of his hood, that I'd been imagining all these horrors. And then”—he raised eyes filled with dread to theirs—“then he pulled back his hood. And he said I might have imagined other horrors, but not this one. Because—because—he wasn't human. He just wasn't human! Oh, Warp, you were on that horse with him! I can't believe you're still alive.”

The three listeners exchanged amazed glances. Skywarp was the most startled of all. He stared blankly at his brother.

“I thought he was nice,” he said.

“Now, Starscream,” asked Prim, “when you say this Mr. Megatron wasn't... human, what exactly do you mean? Do you mean he didn't look human?”

“He, well...” Starscream trailed off, looking around at their expectant faces.

“Well, what?” prompted Skywarp. “Did he have three eyes?”

“No, just two, but they were... weird,” his brother answered. “Too big and... one was red and the other blue.”

“Starscream,” said Aunt Moonlight kindly, “that’s very rare, but it does happen.”

“That wasn’t all!” the boy snapped. “His hair was all wrong, too. It was silver, and it was all long and loose like a horse's mane, not like hair at all.” He glared in frustration at their puzzled faces.

“For heaven's sake, Star, he was an old man,” snorted Skywarp. He had secretly been hoping for empty eye sockets or no head.

“No, he wasn't old, Warp! I mean, he must be if he remembers when Aunt Moonlight was young, but he looked, well, not young, but... not old. But so weird and bony and scarred with a nose like a battle axe, and his skin was the wrong color! And his eyebrows were all thick and wrong, and his teeth—” He suddenly remembered the most important point. “He had tusks! Just… just… sticking right out of his mouth like a wild boar!”

Skywarp started to giggle, and Starscream chucked his almost empty teacup at the other boy.

“Starscream!” Aunt Moonlight scolded, hurrying to pick up the shattered cup, which had entirely missed its target.

“He can’t have had tusks!” Skywarp insisted. “How did he talk so clearly if he had tusks?”

“I just can't explain!” Starscream despaired. “You wouldn't be laughing if you saw him, too. He was just—all wrong somehow! And he did too have tusks!”

“Well, Starscream,” said Aunt Prim sympathetically, “he doesn't sound like a nice old man at all. He sounds like quite an eccentric all the way around. He certainly set you up for a shock, wearing a hood and talking about horrors and ghostly rides. I suppose if you saw him neatly trimmed and brushed by daylight, you would have thought he looked odd, but you were tired and unstrung, and he wanted to give you a scare. Your nerves weren't ready for it, that's all. You haven't been yourself these last several weeks.”

And that was that. The Aunts determined that what they all needed was a good night's sleep and began ushering both boys off to bed. They refused to hear any more about the strange man, and Starscream stopped trying to bring it up after Aunt Prim suggested they might need to call the doctor again the next day.

A short time later, Starscream lay in bed listening to the rain against the windows and the ominous rumble of the thunder. Flashes of lightning lit the sky. He stared up into the darkness overhead, dreadfully tired but too upset to sleep. He was contrasting the terrifying memory with the humiliation of trying to describe it and wasn't sure which one was worse.

His door creaked open in the darkness, and a small figure padded in before snuggling down next to him.

“Star, are you awake?” came a whisper. “I'm sorry I made you mad. If you don't like that man, I don't like him either, but it was splendid to hear him call Mr. Bryht a pigheaded fool.”

“Yes, I suppose it was,” Starscream whispered back, the smallest of smiles curling his mouth at the memory.

“I've thought of something,” Skywarp whispered. “I'll bet he was a ghost. Did he shimmer a little? Do you think he was a ghost?”

“I don't know,” Starscream murmured sleepily. “Maybe he was. Maybe his skin shimmered. It certainly looked odd.”

“Did he look as if he'd been dead a long time?” Skywarp asked.

“No,” came the drowsy reply.

“Well—how about a little while?” Skywarp prompted hopefully. He waited. “Star? Had he been dead a little while?” But no answer came. His brother was asleep.

* * *

Starscream's nightmares left him no peace. A man in a black hood kept dragging him from the house. He caught onto chairs, banisters, door frames, anything within reach, but the man was stronger than he was and just laughed at him. Starscream couldn't see his face, but his eyes gleamed brightly from beneath the hood. When dawn came, he was glad to get up.

The house seemed very quiet with all the windows closed against the rain. Starscream stood at the parlor window and watched the wind tossing the tree branches. Thick, dark clouds hung low in the sky. Aunt Prim came back from the Hall after lunch, bringing Steelrim Bryht with her. They hurried up the steps together as large drops began to fall, and in another moment the rain cascaded down in silvery sheets.

Steelrim Bryht came into the parlor and wamred up at the fire. Starscream hadn’t seen much of him in the last couple of weeks and watched the man distastefully from his spot by the window.

“Your aunt was right. You look truly ill,” the other man remarked, shooting concerned glances over his shoulder at Starscream as he rubbed his ink-stained hands together over the fire. “She has told me quite the tale of adventure, too. Do you have any idea how far you were from here? What land you crossed last night?”

“Warp, you were on the horse,” Starscream grumbled with disinterest. “Did you see any lights or landmarks? I was too busy trying not to fall on my face.”

“I couldn’t see anything at all,” Skywarp said. “It was black as a pot out there. I don’t know how the horse kept from tripping over his own feet.”

His guardian frowned at him critically. “If it was dark as that,” he observed, “I don’t see how anyone could have possibly brought you home. Didn’t you carry a light?”

The two boys looked at each other, surprised. Neither had thought about this.

“No,” answered Starscream, “he didn’t carry any light at all. I was walking right by the horse, and I kept tripping because I couldn’t see. Heaven knows how he knew where he was going.”

Steelrim Bryht looked from one to the other of them. “Your great-aunts didn’t see this Gypsy,” he remarked.

“He stopped just past the orchard and said he wouldn’t come in,” Skywarp said carelessly.

“And he rode back the direction he came,” said Starscream.

Their guardian rubbed his chin thoughtfully, surveying them both. “And you say this man was my cousin?”

“So he claimed,” said Starscream, his brow furrowing.

“He said he was family,” Skywarp added. “He said that your grandfather and his mother were cousins.”

“And that their fathers were brothers.”

Steelrim Bryht put his hands behind his back and began to pace slowly. “Now, that’s a nice little puzzle,” he told them. “And if you work it out, you’ll find that such a cousin would be the child of Dentwood Bryht’s son, Sunwave. But Sunwave Bryht, as you know, Master Quaesit, died as a child. He left no children of his own, and his playmate’s son inherited the estate.”

Sunwave again. Starscream called to mind the picture from the Hall parlor. Black hair and green eyes, laughing. Sunwave, who had died so that Starscream could own Hallow Hill.

“Let’s examine this rationally,” Steelrim Bryht, and he began ticking the points off on his fingers. “You get lost within sight of your own house. You meet a hooded man who claims he’s the son of Sunwave Bryht. You walk home without so much as a candle through pitch-black night, and then you raise a fuss because he’s some sort of ghastly monster. Really, Master Quaesit!” he concluded with a patronizing smile. “Don’t you think I’ll see through a story like that?”

Starscream glared at him. “And what do you imagine I would possibly hope to gain by inventing such a thing?” he demanded.

Skywarp jumped up in a fury. “We really did get lost last night,” he declared, “and your cousin Mr. Megatron really did bring us home! He knew all about Aunt Prim and Aunt Moonlight, and he knew about you, too. He knows lots of things about this place that you don’t know, and he assured us that he always speaks the truth.”

Steelrim Bryht failed to look either mollified or convinced. “Master Skywarp,” he replied calmly, “if you can introduce me to this monster cousin, I’ll be happy to believe you. otherwise , let me just remind you that you’re dealing with an educated man who knows the difference between fact and superstition.” He smiled indulgently over his spectacles at Skywarp, who glared back.

Starscream stepped in to defend his brother. “I can understand your reluctance to believe the story, Mr. Bryht,” he said. “After all, this Mr. Megatron is clearly much better at intimidating us than you’ve ever been, but I assure you, he did exist, and rather than arguing with us, perhaps you ought to engage yourself in finding out what he was doing on my land.”

Steelrim Bryht blinked at him, clasping and unclasping his hands. “Master Quaesit,” he stammered, “I assure you I have never intended to intimidate you.”

“What reassurance,” Starscream scoffed.

“You… Do you really believe in that story you told?” Steelrim demanded. “You didn’t invent that monster? You didn’t just make it up for a thrill?”

“Do I seem the type to play children’s games, Mr. Bryht?” the boy sneered.

His guardian nodded thoughtfully, pale eyes scanning Starscream up and down.

“Boys, run up to your rooms for a few minutes. I’d like to speak to your aunts alone.”

* * *

Steelrim Bryht left in the dogcart half an hour later. Noticing his aunts' frightened eyes, Starscream wondered in irritation what on earth he could have said. They soothed their nephew and fussed over him like two old hens. They didn't let him tend his plants or even read. They wanted him to rest, and every time he said something—anything—they exchanged furtive glances.

Skywarp fared little better. At suppertime, he tried to bring up the strange rider again, and Aunt Prim snapped at him.

“Don't tell stories,” she said sternly.

“Stories!” Skywarp cried. “I never do! Star—”

But Aunt Moonlight interrupted. “Leave your brother out of this,” she said sadly. “Starscream's nerves aren't strong, but we expect you to know the difference between facts and falsehoods.”

“Well, I like that!” Skywarp stormed a few minutes later as he stomped back and forth on the wooden floor of Starscream's bedroom.

“I imagine so,” Starscream muttered from the bed. “It must be quite the shock for you to be the reasonable one for once.”

“We tell them what someone else says, and we get blamed for lying!” Skywarp ranted as if his brother hadn't spoken. “I'd like to see them face a ghost. I think your nerves are just fine.”

He moved a couple of potted plants to fling himself down on the bench at Starscream's dressing table. Looking in the tall, old mirror at its back, he made a disgusted face at himself.

Starscream rolled onto his back with a sigh to stare up at the bed canopy, trying to puzzle through to the truth of last night. It did seem very much like a dream, like the nightmares he'd been having. Maybe he had exaggerated. Maybe he had been half asleep and hadn't really seen enormous cats or children with beards. Maybe he hadn't really seen that strange caricature of a face. Facts and falsehoods. Weak nerves. He closed his eyes, terribly tired.

“Come look at this.” Skywarp's voice rang out like a blaring bugle call though Starscream's foggy brain.

“What?” he snapped, and opened his eyes to look toward the dressing table. Nothing. Sitting up grudgingly, he found his brother standing by the window, staring out at the rainy trees beyond.

“Now they can't say I'm a liar!” Skywarp declared triumphantly. “This is great! Shall I call Aunt Prim?”

Level with the window but a dozen feet away, a cat crouched disconsolately on a dripping tree limb. It turned its golden eyes toward them, ears flat against its head, and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. It was very wet, very unhappy, and very, very large.

“It's Thundercracker! Poor thing. He's so miserable,” Skywarp said sympathetically. “Star, don't you think we could call him down and bring him inside?”

“No!” yelped Starscream, springing up from the bed. “Warp, think about it! If that flapdoodle who brought us home last night is a ghost, then his friends can't be much better, can they?”

“But I petted Thundercracker!” Skywarp protested. “He's perfectly solid and not in the least terrifying. And he's out in the rain. You can see how much he hates it.”

Starscream went to the window and twitched back the lace to get a better look. The huge cat stared at him steadily.

“No, Warp,” he said at last. “He may be a normal cat, but I'm not willing to find out. Aunt Prim would never let a cat into the house, anyway, much less a wet one as big as that. And I don't think it'll do any good to tell the Aunts he's the same one we saw last night. They'll just tell us to stop telling stories again.”

Skywarp went grumbling off to bed. Starscream spent another minute staring out at the cat. Then he dropped the sheer lace and pulled the long, thick curtains over the window. The rainy evening was fast becoming a rainy night. He lit the candle on his dressing table and changed hurriedly for bed.

He fell into a restless slumber, but even in the confused shreds of dreams, he knew he wasn't safe. In his sleep, he was telling Skywarp all about it. “Then I heard a click as the window opened,” he said, and in that instant, Starscream was wide awake.

The click hadn’t been a dream.

Starscream lay still as he could, eyes wide in the dark. The window was certainly open, letting in all the sounds of a drizzly night—the gentle dripping and tapping, the wind sighing—but he could see nothing due to the heavy, gathered curtains surrounding his bed. Then, another unmistakable sound joined the natural ones: slow, heavy footsteps by the window. They wandered in an unhurried fashion down the room as if the unseen caller were looking casually around. They came closer and closer. They were right beside his bed.

Starscream let out a shriek: “Get out of my room!” Then he flung the curtains wide, ready to confront the intruder.

Nothing happened. The stillness was profound. He peered into the darkness, heart pounding in his throat, but he couldn't see anyone there. The window was closed now, and the curtains hung limp. No footsteps sounded, no movement, no breathing. Long seconds crawled by.

“I'm not in your room,” announced Megatron's deep voice.

Starscream froze. 

His first instinct was to leap to the door and run away, but the horrid monster of a man was bound to follow him. If he ran to Skywarp's room, his pursuer might hurt his little brother, and if the Aunts ever saw such a monster, Starscream wasn't sure they would survive it. He stared feverishly into the blackness but saw nothing at all.

Finally, he slipped out of bed and crept to his dressing table. Jaw set but hands shaking, he made to strike a match, but his candle blossomed into golden light before it even caught. He whirled, examining his bedroom by the flickering glow. The room, lit by the single candle flame, seemed full of shadow and menacing beyond words.

“You told me to get out of your room,” noted Megatron's voice behind him. “Look in the other room, the one you see in your mirror.”

Starscream turned to face the tall mirror on his dressing table. What he saw could not possibly be. He put a hand on his bedpost to steady himself. The reflection reached out a hand and clutched its bedpost, too. A hand with six fingers. Megatron stood facing him in the old tarnished mirror. Starscream's own image was gone.

What Megatron was, Starscream didn't know, but he couldn't be human. Not with a body that big. The slightly bowed legs and large, knotted hands conveyed the idea of strength without grace. He was wearing a black shirt, breeches, and boots, but he had left the riding cloak at home, and his high, twisted shoulder showed to advantage. His face and hands were a ghastly pale gray, and his lips and fingernails were dark tan—the colors, Starscream thought, shuddering, of a corpse pulled out of the water. His silvery hair fell in loose waves to his twisted shoulders, and his ears rose out of it to sharp points. What Starscream had taken for scars on the man’s face the night before, he now saw were lines of brown ink in wild, geometrical patterns over Megatron’s cheeks, chin, and forehead.

Most striking of all were Megatron's deep-set eyes, one glowing like a live coal and the other a clear green that caught the candlelight, and those teeth of his. They weren’t quite like a wild boar’s (it must really have been the exhaustion and nerves that had made Starscream remember them as such), but they were certainly tusks: two on each side, one large and one small, curled up from his lower jaw toward that promontory of a nose.

This grotesquely impossible vision rendered Starscream incapable of action for a minute. As his wits began to return, a grim resignation came with them. Warp and the Aunts were weaker than he was. He would have to face the monster alone. He wished suddenly that he were wearing something more than his thin nightgown. It wasn’t exactly his first choice of garb to face some sort of monster out of a storybook, but at least he was in his own room with his plants and star charts around him, giving him some extra shreds of confidence.

He took a step toward the frightful image and groped for the bench, seating himself determinedly before the mirror. The inhuman reflection moved as he did, sinking down upon its own bench. Those odd eyes watched him attentively and shrewdly, and Megatron grinned at him. Starscream stared in fascinated revulsion. The teeth inside of his mouth, straight and even though they were, were a dark silver-gray, and they were far sharper than proper teeth should be.

Everything about this creature was inhumanly freakish, inhumanly ugly, and he was incensed beyond reason that it would dare appear before him. At least it had the decency not to be in the same room with him. Or—did it? Suppose it could just grab him with those corpse's hands.

Starscream held his breath and reached out to feel the mirror, and the figure beyond slowly reached out its hand as well. They came closer and closer together until Starscream felt something cold brush his fingertips.

A second later, he was on his feet by the bed, gasping for air, the overturned bench hitting the floor in front of him. Megatron sprang up to copy, but he failed in the pantomime. Instead, he clung to the bedpost, barking with harsh laughter.

“You scare more easily than you let on, my little Star!” he hooted. “I had no idea that touching glass could be so alarming!”

Starscream drew long breaths, his fright giving way to indignation once more. Yes, that was this creature's other characteristic, he remembered with disgust. Inhumanly ugly and, as far as he could tell, inhumanly rude.

“I never saw anyone move so fast! You should have seen yourself!”

Starscream eyed him balefully, furious at being laughed at. This is the last time, he vowed firmly, that I give him that satisfaction.

He righted the upset bench as calmly as he could and sat down, shaking with anger. Megatron moved to do the same, not copying him this time. He just pulled the bench up and sat down as if they were across a normal table instead of, apparently, magical dimensions. Then he propped an elbow on his dressing table and leaned his cheek on one big, knotted hand, looking out at the boy expectantly.

“Yes, I should have seen myself,” said Starscream, unsticking his throat with an effort. “I'm looking in a mirror, aren't I? I want my reflection back where it belongs.”

“I'll be your reflection,” Megatron teased, and Starscream wondered on how his speech could be so rich and clear with those tusks in the way. “You'll come and sit before me, and I'll tell you how beautiful you are. I'll tell you that there's neither man nor woman in the whole land to compare with you, just like magical mirrors are supposed to.”

Starscream decided to ignore his impertinence.

“Why did you come here?” he demanded. “Why are you bothering me?”

“I'm here tonight for the same reason that I was here last night,” he replied. “Are you sure you really want to know why? You look a little upset.” He crossed his massive arms and leaned forward to study the boy carefully. “There's no insanity in your family, is there?”

The irony of this question coming out of the mouth of a grotesque illusion left Starscream speechless for a few seconds. Insanity? Not until  _ he _ came along. Starscream glared back at him.

“No insanity,” Megatron concluded in relief. “That's good. You do keep surprising me,” he admitted. “I thought I had you sound asleep. Then there you were, sitting up and shrieking like a teakettle. Really, Starscream!” he reproved, shaking his head at the boy. “What if someone had heard you?”

“Are you a ghost?” Starscream asked quickly, just to put the question to rest once and for all.

“No,” he answered. “I am alive, just as you are.”

“Then you're a devil?” was his next guess.

“How wicked do you think I am? You think I'm evil incarnate just because I irritate you? There must be a special place in hell for people who use your first name without permission.” Megatron gave a dark chuckle at his own joke.

“Then what are you?” Starscream demanded, refusing to be mollified.

Megatron considered him shrewdly.

“I'm a goblin,” he replied and grinned at the boy. Starscream grimaced at his teeth again and tried to think of everything he'd ever heard about goblins, but it wasn't much.

Megatron watched him with interest, waiting to see what he would say next. “Just what is a goblin?” he prompted, and Starscream rallied before he could be mocked again.

“Something rude,” he huffed.

Megatron snorted with laughter once more.

“Oh, Starscream, I do like you,” he confessed. “You're quite a welcome surprise. So you don't know what a goblin is. I'll tell you, then.”

“I'm not much one for fairy tales,” Starscream sneered.

“You're talking to one.”

Starscream narrowed his eyes, and Megatron seemed to take this as his cue to continue.

“A goblin is a creature of the race begun by the First Fathers, made with their magic as they drew on the strength of all the other creatures to produce their children. And the goblin you see before you is Megatron, the King, the direct descendant of the Greatest of the First Fathers of our race.”

“Delusions of grandeur,” Starscream snorted, folding his own slender arms across his chest. “Why am I not surprised?”

“In each generation since the very beginning,” Megatron continued as if he hadn't spoken, “the King's Wife has borne only one child, and that child is always a son. Each son has become Megatron in his turn. The King is the guardian and source of the magical gifts of our race. Without the King, the race is lost. And, for various reasons, the King's Wife is always an androgyne.” He paused and considered the boy before him thoughtfully. Starscream shifted as a new sort of discomfort started to settle low in his gut.

“But this King's first wife has died without leaving a son,” Megatron told him.

Starscream eyed the grotesque goblin uneasily. Did he expect some sort of sympathy? If he did, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

“Shall I tell you what your mirror sees?” Megatron went on. Starscream frowned and looked away, expecting more teasing. “I see a young human androgyne who is astonishingly beautiful,” he said, and Starscream eyed him warily. “And who has demonstrated courage, intelligence, and resourcefulness that I did not at all expect. In short, I see an ideal King's Wife.”

It took Starscream a few seconds to comprehend, and then his blood froze in his veins. He couldn't move or speak, though he was vaguely aware that the ugly creature was watching him with concern. The room began to grow dim around him.

“Star,” said that commanding voice, “you are having a horrible nightmare.” And it was the only thing he'd said all night that made sense. “Lie down now.”

Starscream put his head down on a pillow. A blanket came over him. He felt its warm touch against his cheek. There was a roaring in his ears now, but he still heard that voice clear and decisive over it.

“Sleep well, with no more nightmares. When you wake up, you will be refreshed. But you will remember everything that has happened tonight in perfect detail.”

The candle snuffed out, and the mirror went blank, but Starscream didn't notice. He was already sleeping soundly and peacefully, carrying out the goblin King's orders to the letter.


	5. Chapter Four

“Wake up! Are you going to sleep all day?”

Starscream opened his eyes and blinked drowsily. Aunt Prim pushed back the curtains and unlatched the window as Skywarp sat down next to Starscream. A fresh, cool breeze flowed into the room. Outside, Starscream could see green leaves flowing in the bright morning sun.

“How are you, dear?” asked Prim cautiously, coming over. “Skywarp said he heard you crying out and talking in your sleep. I'm sorry I didn't hear you. Are you feeling any better?”

“I feel wonderful.” Starscream blinked up at her in surprise. “I slept better than I have in weeks!” He frowned and added bitterly: “But then, I had to, didn't I?”

Skywarp and Aunt Prim exchanged puzzled glances.

“Well, dear,” Prim said anxiously, “we're going down to the Hall for the day, but I think perhaps you should stay home and rest.”

Starscream climbed out of bed. “Oh, no,” he declared with exaggerated zeal, determined not to be cooped up or fretted over any longer. “I would hate to miss a lovely morning like this. Mrs. Bigelow is bound to have a wonderful meal planned for us at the Hall. I'll be ready in just a few minutes.”

The other two stared in consternation at this new, peppy Starscream, but made no complaint as he shooed them out the door.

Feeling bolder than he had in weeks, Starscream hurried to the dressing table. He sat for a moment and examined his reflection closely, but the mirror behaved in every respect like a good mirror should. It reflected a cozy, personable room and the glorious day outside. There was nothing to indicate the strange happenings of the night before. Nothing, that is, beyond his own peculiar expression. One cannot look entirely ordinary, he considered, after such an earth-shattering event. Or, although he failed to realize it, after being told one is astonishingly beautiful. He did linger just a minute longer than usual before the glass, turning his head to catch a view of his own profile. Then he remembered the goblin's proposal to flatter him whenever he came near the mirror and jumped up in a huff.

Starscream dressed hastily, splashing his face with cold water to bring some flush back to his dark cheeks. He styled his hair at the mirror and tried not to think about what he had seen there, but his strange visitor's every gesture, every word came clearly to mind. He could practically relive the night's events. What had Megatron said? “You will remember everything that has happened tonight in perfect detail.”

The more he thought about it, the more his good spirits fell. It was a wife that the goblin King wanted, and for some reason, he'd chosen Starscream. The boy shuddered at the thought of those massive, dead-looking hands and horrid lips on his body—of what the goblin would do to him to get that child he so wanted.

He went to the window to clear his thoughts. No giant black cat waited outside, but a dingy gray squirrel crouched on the tree limb by his room, right where the cat had been. It was facing his window, and Starscream had the distinct impression that it was watching him.

He came out to the waiting carriage with a brave smile for his worried aunts, but when a small squirrel came leaping down to the gravel path beside him, he brandished his fist at it and chased it away. He turned back to find all three occupants of the carriage staring at him in bewildered alarm.

“Heavens, Star!” reproved his brother, ever the animal lover. “Bullying a squirrel!”

“Hush, Skywarp!” Prim scolded sharply as she and Moonlight exchanged anxious glances.

They arrived at the Hall, and the aunts swept in, greeting Mrs. Bigelow. Starscream straggled behind, uneasy and irritable. At the door, Skywarp paused and looked back. He caught Starscream's arm with a grin and pointed at the carriage.

There on the roof crouched the squirrel. It sat up, chattering, and waved its tail at them. Starscream had a vision of himself chasing it headlong down the gravel track, yelling like a banshee, but the thought of what the aunts and Steelrim Bryht would think of his nerves then stopped him.

He gathered the shreds of his composure about himself and stepped through the door. If he shut it behind himself with more force than necessary, he was unaware of it. Occupied with his own thoughts, he didn't see the shocked glances of his aunts as he walked past them to take his place in the dining room. Mrs. Bigelow sat down with the family and summoned the staff to begin serving the meal.

Starscream picked at his food. If God is supposed to be so good, he considered sardonically, why won't He make this horrible creature go away? But the Romans hadn't asked permission before hauling the Sabine women away to be their wives, and the ancient tribes were always taking women and androgynes captive. God gives His creatures freedom to act, his father had taught him, and it is our responsibility to use it correctly. But what if a magical goblin has no intention of using his freedom correctly? I suppose it's my responsibility to stop him, Starscream concluded bitterly. As well as I know how.

That raised another point. What did he know about how to stop goblins? Nothing whatsoever. He had heard the term applied to mischievous children, and he thought he remembered a story about goblins from his nursery days, something about ugly little creatures with big round eyes who caused trouble to farmers. Starscream felt a sense of indignation. He knew every major constellation and the orbits of all the planets as well as the strategies Genghis Khan had used to defeat the Romans, but as broad as his education had been, Starscream had never learned a thing about goblins. He would have to learn more, but not from the goblin king himself. Starscream wasn't sure he would escape another encounter with him. But Mrs. Bigelow had lived in the area her whole life, and if there were goblins around, there were like as not folktales about how to avoid them. Perhaps she had something useful to contribute.

The meal was dragging on in awkward silence with no one able to think of much to say. This may have been in part because Steelrim Bryht was eating without his usual book, paying close attention to the conversation. Starscream didn't know how his aunts felt about this abnormal behavior, but it made him uncomfortable.

“Mrs. Bigelow,” he said to the housekeeper as carelessly as he could, “Mr. Bryht once told us that there are lots of folktales about Hallow Hill. Do any of them mention goblins?”

Steelrim Bryht leaned forward and looked at Starscream over his spectacles.

“Who has told you about goblins, Master Quaesit?” he asked with a condescending smile. “And please don't try to tell me that it was my cousin.”

Starscream shot him a simpering smile of his own. “I just want to know more about my own lands,” he said.

His guardian's expression faltered, and he turned to the housekeeper. “Did you tell him?” he wanted to know.

“Of course not, sir!” the woman gasped, her face wrinkled in concern. “I knew you didn't want the boys hearing those old stories.”

“So there are stories about goblins!” exclaimed Starscream in triumph. “Tell me everything.”

“Don't you think you've heard enough of them already?” his guardian asked him knowingly, but when Starscream just glowered at him, his expression turned to puzzlement. “All right, Mrs. Bigelow,” he sighed, “we'd better hear the stories again. Maybe then we'll get somewhere.”

“Well, now,” began the housekeeper hesitantly. “Now, you boys know that I've never breathed a word about goblins to you. But the truth is, my own grandparents and the folk they lived among would have sworn to you that there were elves and goblins in these hills. Why, when I was a child, there wasn't a single one of childbearing age allowed out of the house after sunset. All because the magical folk, you see, they be creatures of the nighttime, and they can't see in the day.”

Starscream nodded thoughtfully, filing this bit away for future use.

“The old folks told us that the goblins would steal anyone who could bear children if they caught him or her wandering in the twilight. They'd drag the poor child away to their caverns under the Hill to be a goblin bride. Their hair would turn white, and the color would fade out of them, and they'd become like one of the creatures themselves, nursing some squalling goblin brat in those dripping holes down in the Hill. They always did want the pretty ones, and androgynes were their favorites, but only the ones who hadn't been married, so, you know, a good many more androgynes tend to get married off in these parts than others.”

Starscream remembered Megatron commenting on how pretty Aunt Moonlight had been in her youth, but that she had been a widow. “That was a real pity,” he had said emphatically. Now he knew what the goblin had meant.

“No one ever did see the goblins or the elves,” Mrs. Bigelow continued, “or if they did, they didn't let on to have seen them. They be terrible secretive creatures and powerful with magic, and it didn't pay to cross them at all. Sometimes, old folks said, they'd hear hunting horns at night, and sometimes the sounds of battle, but the wise folk barred their doors and pulled their shutters. You see, the elves and the goblins were here in this land long before us, and folks respected their ways.”

“But what were you supposed to do if you did meet a goblin?” asked Starscream. “Sneeze, or throw salt in its eyes, or say the Lord's Prayer?”

“There's no right way to meet a goblin, dearie,” said the housekeeper. “Staying inside at night was all we could do because they'd not take notice of us then. If a girl—or the right sort of boy—was to get stolen, well, they were stolen is all. Sneezing and salting wasn't going to help.They aren’t demons.”

"How about punching?" Starscream tried.

"Considerin' the size of some of the boys folks say were stolen, I'd guess not."

“Did you know anyone who got stolen?” asked Skywarp hopefully.

“Well, no,” Mrs. Bigelow admitted. “Not that there wasn't the occasional odd bit of news. A boy might go out for a walk and never come back, and his family would never know what had become of him. But there is one story from my grandmother's day that always scared us young ones into staying safe indoors, and that was the story of young Master Sunwave Bryht.”

Starscream sat up a bit straighter.

“You see, my grandmother said that Master Sunwave was as bold as any general, and to tell him not to do a thing was the same as to see him do it. His playmate Master Clarity was a timid little thing, and it may be that encouraged Master Sunwave in his outrageousness. If it was riding the half-broken colt or walking off a cliff's edge, Master Sunwave would do it, half for the fun of the thing and half to hear Master Clarity's frantic screams begging him to stop. But they went everywhere together, and for all his frights and shocks, Master Clarity couldn't bear to be left at home.

“When they were just about old enough to be thought young men, folks warned them to stay safe at home at night, them both being androgynes, and that right away fired Master Sunwave's ambition. He swore he'd be the first to walk into the goblin caves right through their own front door. He'd catch a goblin with his own bare hands or perish in the attempt. And so, evening after evening of those pretty summer days, he was ranging about the woodlands and fields in the twilight, calling for those goblins to come out and show themselves.

“Then came the night the old folks had been waiting on. Master Clarity came running into the house, screaming and crying, and Master Sunwave was nowhere to be seen. It seems Master Sunwave had been marching up a wooded path with a stick in his hand, whacking at the tree trunks and calling on the goblins, when all of a sudden a whole crowd of creatures leapt from the shadows around him. Then a tall man in a black cloak and hood stepped to his side. He lifted the poor boy up in his arms, and the whole crowd melted into the shadows and was gone, with only the sounds of Master Sunwave's screams left behind them to show where they had been.

“Old Bryht stood up looking pale as death, and he called for his master of hounds. The two of them went off with lanterns and the pack on a leash. And when they returned without the boy in the wee hours of the night, old Bryht called the staff together and bade them all goodbye. 'My son is dead,' he told them, 'and don't think you'll see him again.' Then he took Master Clarity into the carriage with him, and two good strong lads for protection, and they rolled off into the night. And that was the last Hallow Hill ever saw of the old master or his son.”

“Then it's true!” cried Starscream in amazement. “Sunwave did become the King's Wife!”

The entire group turned toward him, stunned.

“The goblin King's Wife,” he hurriedly explained. “Sunwave had to marry the goblin King, and that creature is his son. He wasn't lying to us after all, Warp.”

His dinnertime companions couldn't have looked more astounded. Even Skywarp gave his brother a baffled look. Steelrim Bryht took off his spectacles and polished them with his napkin.

“What on earth are you talking about, Master Quaesit?” he demanded with a look of concern.

“The same thing I’ve  _ been _ talking about!” insisted Starscream rising to his feet. The whole picture was coming together now, and he didn't like it one bit. “I have to leave this place at once! They got Sunwave, and who knows how long he survived down there, but they're not going to get me.”

“You think… goblins are trying to get you?” asked his guardian in surprise.

“I know he is,” answered Starscream firmly. He drummed his fingers on the table, only half paying attention to the others as he started formulating an escape plan. “He told me so.”

Steelrim Bryht put his spectacles back on and stared at him in confusion. Then he turned to Skywarp.

“Master Skywarp, you went on that adventure, too. Do you know anything about this?”

The younger boy shrugged and shook his head.

“Of course he doesn't,” snapped Starscream. “The goblin King told me last night. He said his first wife died childless, and I'm ideal. But they can't see in the daytime,” he added, thinking aloud now. “If I leave now, maybe I can travel beyond their reach by nightfall...” He trailed off, calculating how long it would take to pack and what he would need to bring. The others at the table exchanged apprehensive glances, their meal quite forgotten.

“Prim? Moonlight? Nighttime callers?” asked Steelrim. They looked at him and sorrowfully shook their heads. “Master Skywarp?”

“He had a nightmare,” whispered Skywarp. “He was talking in his sleep. I heard him.”

“No one else saw him,” declared Starscream impatiently. He wasn't used to adults not believing him like this.

“How convenient,” murmured his guardian dryly.

“Oh, for heaven's sake!” exclaimed Starscream. “I know it seems impossible, but you have to believe me! Sunwave is your own relation, after all. Haven't you learned anything from his story?”

“Master Quaesit,” remarked Steelrim Bryht in that condescendingly gentle tone of his, “we don't concern ourselves with old gossip. We live in the nineteenth century now. Not even Mrs. Bigelow really believes her goblin tales.”

Starscream glanced, surprised, at the housekeeper, who was watching him anxiously. The woman gave him an embarrassed shrug and looked away. Starscream paused, deeply frustrated, and looked around the table at the others. They all looked as if they wished they were somewhere else. He took a deep breath and tried again, forcing his voice to remain reasonable and level. Much as he wanted to let loose on his cousin with all the unsavory thoughts that had been spinning through his head the last few weeks, he recognized that his very life may well depend on convincing Steelrim Bryht that he was telling the truth.

“I understand your doubts,” he said. “I can see why you thought we invented our walk home the other night. There are parallels to Sunwave's story, of course. It would be easy to think that we had heard it and decided to make up our own, but I promise you that we didn't. I would be happy to show you proof if only I had it. But please believe me,” he insisted as calmly as he could. “I am in danger. I'm not lying to you.”

His guardian rose and began to pace the room slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned to look at the boy several times. Starscream looked back as sincerely as he knew how.

“I do believe you,” Steelrim finally remarked. “I can see that you're not lying.”

Starscream let out his breath in relief. “Then you know I'm in danger,” he concluded. “You'll let me leave.”

“No, Master Quaesit,” countered Steelrim Bryht. “I do not know that you're in danger, but I do know that you're sincere in your delusions. It's obvious that your nerves have given way and left you in a frantic state. You've made some sort of break with reality.”

Starscream gaped at him, astounded. “Are you saying that I've gone  _ mad? _ ” he demanded, voice rising.

His guardian looked dismayed. “There is no need to use so harsh a term,” he protested. “But we felt even before this strange outburst that your nerves were showing severe strain. You must admit, Master Quaesit, that you've given us cause for concern.”

Starscream stared at them one by one. Mrs. Bigelow, fiddling anxiously with her fork and knife. Aunt Moonlight, face hidden behind her handkerchief. Aunt Prim, staring at the pattern on the platter with the most intense concentration. Skywarp, pushing a few stray peas around and around with his fork. Starscream looked back up to meet his guardian's pale-eyed stare.

“You've certainly given me cause for concern, too,” he remarked bitterly. Then he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

* * *

After a half hour of frantic searching, Skywarp caught up with Starscream. His brother was lying in the middle of the tree circle, staring at the white clouds overhead. He sat up as Skywarp approached and began plucking at the thick grass around him.

“Oh, Star, I'm so sorry,” Skywarp wailed miserably. “I do believe you! I do! You're not really mad, are you?” he quavered. “I mean, I understand if you want to be....”

“Don't be a complete goose, Warp,” said Starscream disgustedly. “The rest of them are bad enough.” He told his brother about the events of the previous night. Skywarp hugged his knees and listened carefully, not saying a single word.

“Oh, Star,” he breathed when his brother was finished. “Your very first proposal.”

Starscream stared unbelievingly at the round, solemn eyes and flopped onto his back, laughing loudly. When he recovered, he attacked his little brother and tickled him unmercifully.

“How dare you,” he choked, “call that travesty a proposal! What an utterly infantile thing to say!”

“Well,” his brother sheepishly amended, brushing grass off his pants, “it was sort of like a proposal, anyway. Do you think he loves you?” he added, wide-eyed again.

“Please,” groaned Starscream, lying back to look up at the clouds. “He's not even human! He's a grotesque monster! Weren't you paying attention?”

“But he's royalty! And he can do magic,” his brother pointed out excitedly. “Think how handy if you can't light your candle in the dark.”

“And that's exactly where I would be—in the dark.” They both sobered up, thinking about Mrs. Bigelow's tale of the dank caves under the Hill. Starscream shivered. “Ugh.” he said. “Just imagine poor Sunwave shut up in a hole like that. I'd never survive it, Warp. I'd die, I just know I would.”

Skywarp took his hand and squeezed it affectionately.

“I'm sorry,” he said sympathetically. “It does sound terrible. But I'll help. What do we do?”

“I don't know,” Starscream replied gloomily. “I've been trying to think of a plan. I know good and well that they won't let me near the horses, and if I try to take the dogcart, they really will think I'm crazy. We'll just have to find some way to convince Mr. Bryht and the aunts that the goblins are real.”

“I don't know why they don't believe you,” commented Skywarp. “It makes perfect sense to me.”

“Yes, well... We live in the nineteenth century now,” Starscream mimicked his guardian in a lofty tone, then snorted in disgust.

“If he knows that, why's he still wearing a wig?” demanded Skywarp. “I wonder if he's completely bald without it.”

“I dare you to ask him,” teased his brother, standing up. “We'd better go home now and face the whispering aunts. We'll stay together in your room tonight, and maybe I can find some way to convince them tomorrow.”

* * *

But even this simple plan proved impossible.

“You want us to do what?” Starscream gasped to Prim. The dour woman held a letter out to him.

“I want you to take this message up to the Hall for me,” Prim replied defensively. “You'll stay with Mrs. Bigelow tonight.”

“You can't possibly mean it!” spluttered Starscream. “It's already dark out there!”

“I certainly do mean it,” his aunt said forcefully. “Starscream, I know you're afraid of...of the dark, but Steelrim suggested this, and I think it will help. You need to face your fears.”

“What?” gasped Starscream. “You actually expect me to walk out this door… and  _ face _ them? Are you  _ daft!? _ ”

“Starscream, get ahold of yourself!” the old woman said firmly. “We simply can't have another day like today.”

“Oh, you won't!” cried Starscream, snatching the letter from her. “You won't have any more days like today ever again!”

The two boys stumbled out into the night.

“This is just splendid!” snapped Starscream, clutching Skywarp's hand tightly. “This is simply perfect!” He stopped short at the gravel path. “Now what on earth are we going to do?”

“Run?” suggested Skywarp uncertainly.

“Oh, for heaven's sake, Warp! They have horses.”

They entered the forest. The moon, almost full, climbed a nearly cloudless sky, and Starscream gathered courage from its pale rays. Bright moonlight dappled the path before them with silver spots, but under the trees, the shadows were black and ominous. After only a couple of minutes, they heard just what they had been afraid of: the creaking of saddles and the ringing of hooves on stone. Voices behind them began to laugh and howl.

“Come  _ on! _ ” Starscream snarled, and they did their best to run. They stumbled over roots and caught their clothes on branches. Starscream lost a shoe and ran on in his stocking. The horses were almost upon them. He dragged Skywarp off the path into the deep shadows beside it. The horses trotted by.

“Quick!” hissed Starscream. “They missed us!” He jumped to his feet with his brother in tow and ran across the path into the woods beyond. About ten feet off the path, a clearing opened up. A little woman worked in the moonlight, filling her basket with herbs and humming melodiously.

“Help!” panted the boys, dashing up.

Old Airachnia's broad face and snapping black eyes turned toward them.

“Oh, look!” she cried, clapping her hands and dropping her herb-filled basket. “It's my two pretty boys! Now, help from what, my dears?”

Starscream stopped short in horror, but Skywarp burst out, “Airachnia, save us! The goblins are coming!” This was a rather silly speech to make, but the little woman took their trembling hands kindly enough.

“Not yet, dears,” she soothed. “Who's been chasing my boys?”

As if in reply, they heard hooves on the path again. Starscream pointed mutely toward the sound.

“Oh, that!” Airachnia chuckled. “They're no goblins! Just a couple of clodhopping humans out for a moonlight ride.”

“But they're after us!” cried Skywarp. Starscream nodded vigorously. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it stuck fast.

“Not for long,” declared the little woman. “Just stand still now.”

She reached into one of her capacious pockets and pulled out some sort of powder, carefully patting it down into the hollow of her hand. The horses were almost upon them. Airachnia took a deep breath and blew the powder toward them. The air was filled with the sound of terrified neighing and plunging, riders' confused shouts, and snapping branches. The two horses tore off down the path to the house as if demons were after them, their riders clinging to them more by accident than skill.

Old Airachnia watched them go, chuckling with satisfaction. Then she bent and retrieved her basket and went on with her work. The boys stared after the horses in amazement. The exhaustion of the sudden fright and quick run caught up with them, and they stood speechless for a moment, drawing in shaky breaths. Starscream doubled over, hands on his knees as he gasped for air.

“We're so excited about the wedding, dear,” Airachnia spoke, her nimble fingers working in the weeds at their feet, and Starscream looked up sharply. “And what a prize you are, to be sure, after the King's last wife. What a dull, drab thing he was, poor mite! Megatron certainly didn't deserve that. And a fine King he is, too, my dear, though I should say it, who was his old nurse, you know. He's the best magician we've had in many a proper generation, though there do be some who say he's too elf-pretty to be a proper king.”

“Mm,” said Starscream stupidly, too horrified at the ease with which she spoke of his marriage to that monster to reply, but Skywarp was quite interested in the little woman's speech. He had no difficulty, as usual, in thinking of things he wanted to know.

“What do you mean, elf-pretty?” he asked the busy Airachnia. “And why doesn't the King just marry another goblin? Doesn't anyone at home want to marry him?”

“Oh, they couldn't, dear, you know,” old Airachnia replied. “Goblin women don't bear well. Many goblins marry outside for to bring in fresh blood, you see. And the King, always. It's the ancient way of our race. Elves and humans for the King, though there's been the occasional dwarf,” she added proudly. “And always androgynes. You bear the magic far better than the women of your races. And that's the way it's always been for us. The high families marries the elves and dwarves or a pretty human, and the beast folk marries whatever of the animal folk they fancies. The cat tribe, the dog tribe, eagles or bears, anyone who'll be a good mother to goblin young. That's why goblins look like everything on earth.”

“You can't possibly mean your kind marry common beasts!” Starscream exclaimed in disgust.

“Well, the beast folk are good at talking with the animals. I suppose they work it out,” Airachnia shrugged, and Starscream mouthed at her, unsure what to do with that.

“What do you mean, elf-pretty?” Skywarp repeated, not to be thwarted.

Airachnia stopped her work and stretched.

“The Kings tended to marry elves, back when the elves still lived. They're all gone now, the elves. I saw the last when I was a child. She was this King's grandmother, and he's like her in ways. He's hardly got a single animal trait about him, and that's odd in a King. No wings or claws, no feathers or fur, and that makes folks call him elf-pretty. Oh, they were our cousins, you know, the elves, though there was no love lost between us. They were pretty to look at, but we were the stronger race. We captured them for brides whenever we pleased, and the goblins learned their magic. This King, now”—she nodded to Starscream—“he knows all about elf magic. It's a powerful good to the goblin folk to have a strong King.”

A strong King. That was just the problem, Starscream reflected, thinking of Megatron and how easily the goblin could toss him over one of those broad shoulders and tote him away into the dark.

“Yes, well,” Starscream said, managing to find his voice at last, “Skywarp and I had better be going now. Thank you for your help.”

Old Airachnia's black eyes twinkled up at Starscream shrewdly. “Don't thank me just yet, my dear,” she said.

“Well... goodbye, then,” Starscream answered, frowning at her. He took Skywarp's hand and turned to go. Then he let out a gasp. His feet! They were glued to the spot. He tried to tear them free, but they seemed to have grown roots.

He rounded on Airachnia, nostrils flaring.

“You... you  _ whore! _ ” he spat the worst insult he knew at her as his brother made a noise of panic at realizing that he, too, was stuck fast. The goblin woman calmly carried on with her work.

“We're so excited about the wedding,” she repeated. “We've got everything all ready. And I'm in charge of the women's part. It's quite an honor, you know.”

Starscream thought he could hear distant hoofbeats over the drumming of blood in his ears and thought again of Mrs. Bigelow's tale of dripping caves and squalling goblin brats. Would he even live to see the one the goblin King forced on him, or would he die as his mother had after struggling to bring Skywarp into the world? Did they plan to take Skywarp, too, even though he was too young to bear children yet?

“Airachnia,” he pleaded futilely.

“Now, now, dear,” the old woman said soothingly, “you've no need to carry on. He'll make a good husband for you, you know. He was that kind to his other poor wife, and he was just as mad as a spring hare.”

Yes, that must be hoofbeats, Starscream thought desperately, and he knew how that poor mad wife must have felt. But somehow, he knew just what to do.

“Airachnia,” he said winningly, not even sure what he was saying, “you don't want the King's new wife handed over like a sack of potatoes. Everyone will hear of it. What a dull, drab thing I'll seem.”

The little woman paused in her work, her bright black eyes on Starscream.

“And isn't it good to see the King so busy,” Starscream chatted on. “Something new to plan for every day. It's good for him, you know,” he added persuasively. “He always does get things his own way.”

Airachnia burst into a chuckle and patted Starscream's hand. “Oh, go on with you,” she said indulgently as if she were sending them out to play. “Go ahead and get a little head start; it does make it sporting. He'll be here soon enough.”

Starscream snatched his brother's hand and dashed from the clearing without a backward glance. On the path, they both froze, listening. The horseman was very near.

“To the tree circle!” called Starscream. “He's already at the house.”

Then he saved his breath for running. As they tore up the little slope that lead to the tree circle hill, the hoofbeats drummed out behind them like thunder. The horseman was catching up.

“Don't look back,” Starscream hissed between labored breaths, but Skywarp couldn't help it.

As they raced toward the first circle of trees, he glanced over his shoulder to see the gray horse break from the woods behind them. His master held him at a gallop, riding low, black cloak streaming back in the wind and one arm reaching out to snatch the brothers. Then Starscream was dodging between the massive trees, dragging Skywarp behind him. They heard the horse plunge and slide to a stop as they ran to the center of the clearing.

The stars hung huge and low over them, and the almost-full moon shone down, but a crackling ring of purple lightning split the sky. It arced and danced in the trees, blinding their dazzled eyes, and a fierce wind whipped up, whirling and tearing at their clothes. The brothers threw themselves on the ground and huddled in terror, their arms clutched tightly around each other. The wind whistled and sang in their ears, and the constant cracks of lightning picked out patterns on the insides of their tightly closed eyelids. Skywarp sobbed aloud in fright, and Starscream braced himself for the hands that would drag him away. When they didn't come, he began to grow impatient. What was that bucket head waiting for?

“Stop doing that!” he called out in frustration. “You're frightening my brother!”

Complete calm reigned instantly. No lightning crackled, and the wind puffed down to a gentle breeze. After a few seconds, the boys raised their heads and looked about them, expecting to see destruction and chaos, wildfires and uprooted trees. Instead, the stars hung huge and low, and the silver moon shone down. The clearing looked exactly as it had before.

“Star,” called Megatron's deep voice from beyond the huge oak trees, “it's time to stop this foolishness now. Come out before you make me do something rash.”

Starscream felt his blood boil. He stroked the grassy turf for a second. The feel of it gave him confidence. He looked around at the stars, the moon, the trees. These were things that he could count on.

“You can't come in here, can you?” he shouted back. “This is a magic place.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” the goblin answered reasonably. “Of course I can come in. It is a magic place, and I am magic.”

“On, no, or you'd already be here,” Starscream cackled exultantly. “Your magic doesn't work here. You can't do anything to us, I know it! You're just a powerless old man!”

Megatron walked into the clearing, stopping just inside the circle of trees. Skywarp gave a gasp of dismay and scrambled to his feet. He was getting his first good look at the goblin King. Starscream stayed where he was, jaw set.

Megatron grinned, showing his dark fangs and emphasizing those tusks. “Star, you are a treasure,” he declared. “I don't know how you know things, but you do. You're exactly right. I can't do anything to make you leave this place. Anything magical, anything actual. All force is completely forbidden here because this is the elves' and goblins' truce circle.” He sighed. “And once again, I just wish I knew how you know it.”

Starscream struggled to his feet, wild hope making him giddy.

“We're safe here,” he told his brother. He turned triumphantly to face the goblin King. “And you might as well leave. We'll be staying here all night where you can't hurt us.”

The hulking goblin smiled at him. “Now, whoever gave you the idea that I would hurt you?” He shook his hair out of his brilliant eyes. “No, force is not allowed at all within this circle. You are free to do whatever you want to do. Or whatever you're persuaded to do. Elves and goblins aren't susceptible to persuasion spells, so there's no protection against them.” He leered at the two brothers. “Let's see, Star,” he suggested. “I think what you really want to do right now is walk over to me.”

Starscream stiffened at once, his confidence evaporating. “I certainly do not!” he gasped.

Megatron's big, inked face wore an amused grin.

“No?” he asked coolly. His voice dropped, becoming quiet and gentle. “Walk toward me, Star, first the left foot and then the right. You want to come away with me.”

He continued in a steady murmur, the pleasant voice almost a singsong. Starscream felt his resistance begin to fade. The goblin was so convincing. It all sounded so easy. He found himself taking a step.

“Warp, help!” Starscream cried out in dread, but before his brother could come to his aid, Megatron's voice quickened a trifle.

“And Warp, you want to sit right down and watch him,” he went on smoothly.

Skywarp plopped right down on the grass.

“You just wonder what all the fuss is about.” That even voice continued, rising and falling, almost without words. Skywarp watched Starscream tottering step by step toward the edge of the circle, his teeth gritted, hands clenched, desperately trying to stop himself. And Skywarp wondered, indeed, what all the fuss was about.

Starscream was almost to the first circle of trees. The goblin King kept up the quiet rhythm, stepping away from him back between the oaks. His smile was triumphant as he reached out to the boy. Starscream gave a strangled cry. As the goblin disappeared from view behind the trees, he felt the magic pull weaken just a little. It was his only chance. He turned and bashed his head as hard as he could against the trunk nearest to him. With a sigh, he crumpled at the foot of the tree. The moonlit world winked into darkness.


	6. Chapter Five

Skywarp came to his senses. Feet flying, he dashed to his brother's side, but Megatron reached Starscream first. He rolled the boy over carefully, a stream of foreign words issuing emphatically from his lips. Skywarp flinched, afraid of magical lightning or some other powerful result, but no spell was underway. Megatron was just venting his sorely tried feelings in the capable goblin tongue.

“Leave him alone!” Skywarp cried.

Megatron paid no attention. He snapped his fingers in the air, and a small silver globe appeared. It was not as bright as a candle, but it shed a soft light. Megatron moved it to a spot about three feet above Starscream's face. When he released it, the shining globe hovered obediently in the air.

By its silver light, Skywarp could see a large, shallow wound across his brother's forehead. Blood was running in a dark stream into his hair and across his closed eyelids, and a shadowed bruise was already spreading under the skin around his eyes. The goblin murmured something under his breath, pressing his fingers into the wound. He pulled them away and wiped Starscream's forehead with his cloak. The wound stopped bleeding. Skywarp watched it closely, but no fresh trickles flowed from it to join the dark tracks congealing in Starscream's hair.

The goblin walked away, licking his bloody fingers, and came back a minute later with a small bag in his hand. He knelt again by Starscream. Loosening the bag, he scooped out a small quantity of cream and carefully smeared it across the open wound. As he did so, the wound bubbled, flattened, and formed a sudden skin. Within a few seconds, it had healed without a trace.

Skywarp stared openmouthed at the goblin as he applied minute dabs of cream, frowning with deep concentration, his shimmering, silver hair falling over his scarred face. As he smoothed the salve down the side of Starscream's nose and underneath his eye, the bruise melted back into fair skin. He took a somewhat generous dollop and pressed it onto the boy's forehead where the wound had been, murmuring something under his breath. Skywarp watched the cream vanish as if the goblin had driven it through the skin.

Starscream began to groan and twitch. Megatron quickly caught his face between his hands. He laid all six fingers of his right hand on the boy's brow, and he relaxed again into slumber.

“You really can work magic!” breathed Skywarp, staring at his weird companion in awe.

Megatron flicked him a glance from those gleaming red eyes and then went on with his work. He ran his fingertips speculatively over Starscream's eyes and nose. He ran them along his temples and down his neck.

Skywarp sat back, hugging his knees to his chest, and studied the busy goblin King. Starscream was right: he did look pretty frightful. His pointed ears poked through his weird hair like a dog's, and his teeth were like a drawing Skywarp had seen in one of his father’s books of Satan holding court with his devils. In fact, he looked about as ugly as anything the boy had ever seen, but Skywarp was ready to forgive a great deal in someone who could work magic. Skywarp mulled over what Starscream had told him that afternoon and what Airachnia had said in the clearing.

“Star says you want him to be your new wife,” he began.

“That's right,” Megatron murmured, applying salve to a bloody knee he had found.

Skywarp watched in excitement as the scab bubbled away. In a few seconds, the knee was whole and undamaged. Real magic, right before his eyes.

“But he doesn't want to be your wife,” he pointed out.

Megatron had reached the filthy, ragged sock on the foot with no shoe. He pressed his knotted hand on the bottom of the foot and sighed in exasperation, reaching for the salve.

“That doesn't really matter,” he remarked inattentively. “The King's Wife is always a captured bride.”

“I think that's the most vile thing I ever heard,” declared Skywarp forcefully. So what if he could work magic! “How could you suggest such an awful thing? No wonder he doesn't want to marry you!”

Megatron paused, cradling Starscream's foot in one gray hand, and looked up sharply.

“So, Star doesn't want to be my wife,” he said, and grinned, showing the sharp, dark teeth inside his mouth. Skywarp flinched and decided that he was rather ghastly after all. “Well, young Warp, just what do you suggest I do? The goblin King can't marry his own kind. Our magic doesn’t work that way. Should I go about holding hands and making sheep's eyes at farmers' sons till some androgyne decides to give goblin life a try? And what if he balks at the first sight of his subjects or panics halfway through the ceremony? Do I peck him a fond kiss farewell and start all over again?” He gave a short laugh at the thought. “Your lot are rare enough as it is! A long life my race would have if we Kings behaved like that. No, the King's Wife is always a capture. It's the only prudent way.” He went back to his ministrations on the torn-up foot.

Skywarp considered that this was the most splendidly evil speech he had heard in his whole short life. He was almost lost in admiration of its appalling wickedness. Then he frowned again, stabbed with a sudden concern.

“But Star loves being outside under the moon and the stars,” he said. “If you marry him, couldn't he at least come out sometimes?”

“No,” said Megatron flatly. “But he'll settle in. They always do.”

“Did your first wife settle in?” asked Skywarp.

Megatron fixed him with a glare.

“My first wife went mad,” he said abruptly. “He didn't believe in goblins.” He went back to his work. “I was too impulsive. I found him by the lakeshore one evening, stargazing, and I took him home there and then. But it seems his mother had gone mad, and the poor thing was always waiting his turn. He fainted during the wedding ceremony and we never had another lucid word out of him. He believed we were just some dream he was having, a delusion in his mind. I studied magic tirelessly after that, trying to find a cure, but I found nothing, absolutely nothing, that would touch pure human madness.” He shook his head, sharp teeth bared but something like sadness in his mismatched eyes.

Skywarp watched the strange creature silently for a moment, thinking about that poor stolen man. “Star says he'll never survive it,” he insisted anxiously. “He says he knows it'll kill him.”

“Is that so?” remarked the goblin, failing to sound impressed. He had concluded the search for injuries. He pressed his long, bony fingers on Starscream's forehead again. “And what is he going to die of, exactly?”

“Childbirth?” Skywarp suggested, and Megatron looked up at him sharply. “Our mother did. And our great-grandmother. Star says we should never have children because it's bound to kill us, too.”

“Oh, Warp,” Megatron sighed, a softer smile quirking his lips than Skywarp had seen there yet. “You've just seen what magic I can work. You really think I'd let your brother die of something so ordinary as childbirth?”

Skywarp looked back at his brother, who looked almost like a child himself beside the goblin King's bulk, and considered this.

“Is anything else troubling you about the arrangement?” Megatron wanted to know.

And Skywarp told him Mrs. Bigelow's story about the cold, dank caves under the Hill. He told him about the hideous things that lived there and about the poor goblin brides, their hair turning white and their skin growing gray, nursing their squalling goblin brats in the dripping caverns far from the sun.

Megatron made a sound of deep amusement. Reaching up, he extinguished the little orb. Then he turned to Skywarp. “And you believed her, did you?” he chuckled, reaching out to flick the boy’s nose. “Really, Warp, what a tale.”

The boy blinked, taken aback at the gesture of familiarity. No one had done that to him since his father had died. But then he persisted: “But you live underground, don't you?”

“We live under the hill, yes,” Megatron affirmed.

“And is it...really awful...in those caves underground?”

“It is more beautiful than you could possibly imagine,” he said impatiently.

Skywarp pondered this statement. More beautiful than he could imagine. He considered the dank backdrop of his gaunt, white-haired goblin bride and added some sparkle to the cave walls. More beautiful still. He put in a subterranean stream and shiny rock formations. More beautiful than that. He sighed and gave it up.

“If you steal Star, would you steal me, too?” His voice trembled.

Megatron was studying the sleeping Starscream. He glanced up and grinned. “A little young, aren't you, to be a goblin bride?” he teased. “All ready to have your hair turn white in those dripping caves underground?”

“But you said—” Skywarp began as Megatron chuckled. “Anyway,” he concluded unhappily, “he's all the family I have. I just don't want to be left behind.”

The goblin stopped laughing. “Airachnia's right,” he remarked. “You have a lot of pluck.”

A small silence reigned. He was still watching Starscream narrowly, the way the cook watched rising bread or baking pies. Skywarp wondered what he was looking for. He thought about the dwarf woman and what she had told them.

“Airachnia says there aren't any more elves,” he told the goblin sadly. “Did your lot kill them all?”

Megatron didn't look up from his would-be bride. “They destroyed themselves,” he answered absently. “They didn't want to survive. We goblins stole elf brides, of course, but that was a good thing for the pretty elves. It gave them unity, something to strive against. Otherwise, they were likely to just wander off in all directions. They always were a little too good for this world.” Somehow this didn't sound like a compliment.

“Their last King didn't bother to find a new wife when his first wife died childless. Then he died unexpectedly, and that was the beginning of the end. My great-great-grandfather met with the elves on this very spot and offered to take them in with us. There's a colony of dwarves like that who live under my command. But they said no.” Megatron snorted. “Catch an elf living underground,” he said scornfully.

“We hunted the elves tirelessly after that, to get the good of the blood before it was all gone. Oh, an elf would tell you quite a tale of woe, with sadness written all across his pretty face. But it wasn't our fault they died out. They did it to themselves. Batty stargazers,” he added with relish.

Skywarp stared around in amazement. Elves and goblins had met right here. He tried to imagine them, beautiful and ugly, tall and short, noble and frightful. No wonder he loved this magical place. The goblin King continued to watch Starscream closely, laying his big hands on either side of the boy's face again. Then he turned in abrupt decision.

“What I want to know is—” Skywarp began, but Megatron leaned forward swiftly and put his six fingers on the younger boy's brow. Then he caught him as he toppled and laid him gently in the grass beside his brother.

“What you want to know is almost everything,” he remarked to his sleeping form. Then he turned back to Starscream.

* * *

Long, dreary hours passed while Starscream tossed in unhappy dreams. Finally he sat up in bed with a jerk, jarred out of sleep. He stared around futilely at the thick blackness of the room. Not one ray of light crept in past the curtain. Starscream stumbled through the gloom, clutching the furniture and swearing, because the room was so dark that he couldn't see where to step. He tried to light his candle, but not even a spark broke the inky darkness around him. Moving by feel, he quitted his room and edged down the hall. He crept into Skywarp's room and shook his sleeping form.

“Warp, wake up!” he hissed, and then cried, shaking and shaking, but Skywarp just flopped limply in his arms like a giant doll. Another fruitless attempt to light Skywarp's candle and another hideous trip through the dark. He thought he heard a chuckle as he stumbled across the hall. He wrenched open Prim's door and slammed it shut behind him, but Aunt Prim lay like the dead in the darkness, not even breathing. Starscream stood in indecision, afraid to touch her. Was that tapping at the window? A twig, or fingers? Starscream fled the dark room, leaving his aunt's body behind in the night.

Out in the hall again, he was sure he heard a whisper. It came closer and closer, but no footsteps came with it. Starscream began to sob in panic and strike out against the blackness. Clinging to the banister, he sank down on the stairs. The whisper was coming close again, and he couldn't get away. He hid his blind face against his arms and huddled on the stairs, a hunted, trapped animal, all alone in the dark.

“Star, look at me,” Megatron said in a commanding voice. He took the boy's hand, kneeling beside him.

Starscream closed his eyes tightly in dread, throwing out a hand to catch at the banister and drag himself away from the monster. Instead, he felt soft grass, a tree trunk. He opened his eyes. White moonlight flooded in, and the blackness was gone, but the nightmare was still very real. Megatron was bending over him. He had caught him at last.

“Look at me,” Megatron ordered again, and Starscream looked up into those burning eyes. The goblin King knelt close by him, holding his hand in his strong, knotted fingers. Starscream closed his eyes to block out the horrible sight, drawing in shallow breaths.

“And did we have a pleasant sleep?” he inquired sweetly. “Nice dreams?”

“Sod off,” Starscream hissed, keeping his eyes tightly shut.

“No, not a nice dream,” the goblin remarked. “Though no worse than you deserved, either, I suppose, for smacking yourself into a tree. What a fool stunt, Star.”

Starscream's breathing slowed, and he began to remember where he was. He sat up, a little unsteadily, pulling away from the man. He was free from the nightmare, and his mind was beginning to work. He frowned as thoughts began to connect themselves.

Megatron studied the sullen face. “No gratitude at all?” he asked. “Not one kind word for patching you up after you tried to batter your brains in?”

Starscream's hand rose to his forehead, and he felt about for a bump. Then it traveled to his hair and encountered the dried blood. He retraced the track of blood. No break in the skin. No pain, no soreness. He stared at the goblin, eyes round with surprise.

“Star,” Megatron told him seriously, “that was a stupid thing to do. What if I hadn't been here? What if you had died? I lie awake worrying about what's happening to you out here. You could be falling down a well, or breaking a leg, or catching a fever. What if you need my help, and I can't come in time?”

“Then I'll be bloody grateful not to see your ugly face,” Starscream muttered, continuing to prod his forehead. Need his help? Why would he need the goblin's help? If Megatron hadn't been here, then he certainly wouldn't have run into the tree to begin with, and he couldn't imagine wanting the man anywhere near him, broken leg or not.

Megatron simply smiled at him fondly, though.

“And what were you doing, anyway, wandering around the woods at night? I wasn't expecting that,” he admitted. “I thought you'd be barring yourself in your room or maybe locking yourself into a wardrobe.” He chuckled at the thought. “What happened? Did you come looking for me?”

“As if,” Starscream snorted, moving a little farther away from him. He spied Skywarp lying in the grass, and his heart almost stopped.

“What did you do to him?' he cried.

“I answered his questions,” Megatron said carelessly. “Almost all of them.” He leaned back contentedly against a tree trunk. As Starscream began to shake his brother, he added, “Leave him alone. He'll wake up when I tell him to.” He laughed. “Did you know that he wants to be stolen by goblins? He actually asked me.”

Starscream's heart sank. The world was going horribly wrong. A few weeks ago, he had been sitting with his brother in this very spot under the stars, perfectly happy. Now a grotesque monster was haunting him and menacing him with a terrible future. Poor Warp lay motionless, locked in his magical control. Starscream looked down anxiously at his brother's sleeping face. They had to find some way to escape.

“We found out what really happened to Sunwave Bryht,” he said accusingly.

“Oh, really?” asked Megatron, interested. “Well, don't look so incensed about it. My mother's life was happy enough.”

Starscream thought about the unlikely prospect of Sunwave having had a happy life. What terror and loathing he must have felt, captured by freakish monsters and locked away in a dark cavern far below the earth! An airless tomb, thought Starscream in horror. A living tomb from which that bright, brave boy was never able to escape.

“I'm not going down there!” he snarled determinedly. “I won't go down into those dark caves away from the light, away from the stars. I won't live underground in some ghastly hole, sealed off from the air under mountains of rock.”

The goblin King crossed his arms comfortably and smiled in wry amusement. “Star,” he remarked, “your ignorance is colossal.”

Starscream's nostrils flared. How typical! This man was threatening the loss of everything he loved, and he didn't even care.

Megatron closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and continued calmly, “If that's what you think my kingdom is like, I certainly know not to ask you to come.”

Hope swept through the boy. “You won't?” he gasped.

Megatron opened his eyes again and frowned at his eager expression. “Of course not.” He shrugged. “I'll just take you there. No sense in asking.”

Starscream felt his stomach lurch. His pulse began pounding in his temples.

“I'm not going anywhere with you, freak,” he spat.

The goblin put his head to one side and grinned at him through his strange hair.

“And how will you stop me? After all,” he teased, “you can't bash your head in every night. What if you're too far from a tree?”

Starscream jumped to his feet and began to pace, fists clenched at his sides. “There's a way out, I know there is!” he insisted. “I just have to figure it out.”

Megatron watched him attentively. “Sit down, Star,” he said.

“After all,” Starscream observed, stopping and pointing a finger at him, “you don't have me yet.” He sat back down on the grass nearby, not even noticing his own obedience. “You haven't been able to catch me,” he declared excitedly. “I've stopped you so far.”

Megatron shouted with laughter.

“You stopped me?” he whooped. “Stopped me from doing what? Did you lead yourself home when you were lost? Did you tell yourself to go to sleep from the other side of the mirror? You haven't stopped anything. I stopped myself. I didn't want to upset you too much. Human minds are fragile. They don't come back from that kind of shock.”

A feeling of despair washed over Starscream as he realized the truth in these words. He looked down, struggling against tears of frustration.

“I could have put you kicking and screaming on my horse that very first night,” Megatron pointed out cheerfully, “but I'm very glad that I didn't because you interest me. You're so terribly determined. I never know what you'll do next.”

“So this is all just a joke to you,” Starscream cried savagely. “A cat-and-mouse diversion. You are the cruelest monster ever spawned!”

“Careful,” the goblin advised, holding up a bony hand. “Don't forget logic. If I'm cruel to be patient, what would I be if I  _ had _ put you on the horse that first night? Compassionate?” He chortled. “Kindly?”

Starscream glared at him.

“I think you're hideous,” he spat. “You're mean and hateful, making a game out of someone else's misery. Laughing while you practically threaten to rape me!”

The goblin King stopped laughing and studied his pale face. “Do you know, Star, I believe you're right,” he declared. “I am being cruel to you. You seem to be taking this very hard. You're starting to lose sleep and fret about the future, and you're listening to all sorts of ridiculous tales. This kind of delay isn't good for you, either. The sooner it ends, the better.”

Starscream paused, alarmed. This was not the point he had been trying to make. He didn't seem to be getting anywhere. In fact, he was making things worse.

“But I don't want to marry you at all!” he shouted.

“Of course not,” Megatron agreed, surprisingly gentle. “I never thought you did. There aren't any volunteers to my kingdom, but we try not to let it discourage us.” He rose and walked slowly to the center of the tree circle, studying the clear night sky. Then he turned back, face suddenly dreadfully serious. “And my dear, dear Star, I assure you that bringing you to my kingdom is the last thing I will ever do against your will.”

Starscream bit his lip and glared back hatefully, not believing it for an instant. What Megatron wanted wasn't a wife, but the son that wife could produce. He had no doubts what would happen to him the moment he was in the goblin's clutches.

“I hope it won't offend you if I leave you now,” Megatron remarked pleasantly. “Several matters still need my attention tonight. Since you consider us enemies, I'll guarantee your safe arrival at the Lodge, and since I consider us engaged, I'll provide you with an escort. I'm not going to let you come to harm while you're still outside.” He knelt by Skywarp's sleeping form. As he took the boy's hand in his, he sat up, speaking.

“—how it got to be a truce place, anyway.” He looked around. “Oh, hello, Star's up.”

“Yes, and I'm leaving before he heads for another tree,” Megatron teased. “I'll tell you about it some other time, Warp. Thundercracker will see you home.”

Then he was gone between the huge black oaks. They heard him give a quiet whistle and speak in a low voice. They heard his horse coming unhurriedly toward him, blowing out its breath. Then came the creaking of leather, the jingle of metal, and hoofbeats moving away.


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! I almost forgot about this project!! DX Sorry, guys!

Starscream realized that he had been sitting in the same position for some time. He climbed stiffly to his feet, terribly tired despite his long sleep under the goblin King's spell.

The huge black cat moved silently through the trees to join them. “Hello,” he piped in a thin, reedy voice. “The King says I'm to walk you to the Lodge.”

Starscream jumped and gasped, feeling abruptly that perhaps he did have weak nerves, but Skywarp yelped in delight.

“Oh, Thundercracker!” he cried. “You clever cat! You can talk!”

The large feline sat down. “Well,” he said in an abashed tone, “I'm not really a regular cat.” He turned his round eyes with their huge black pupils on Starscream, who curled his lip in return, feeling a little silly at his initial reaction to the cat. “Are you ready to leave now?” he trebled politely.

Starscream folded his arms tightly across his chest, hesitating. It was still nighttime, or at any rate very early morning. He hated to leave the safety of the tree circle.

“I don't know, Warp,” he said cautiously to his brother. “Maybe we should stay here until the sun comes up.”

“You don't need to worry,” Thundercracker assured him earnestly. “I just look like a big cat, but I can protect you with magic. The King wouldn't have made me your escort if he didn't think I could handle the job.” Starscream detected a note of pride in this last statement.

“I’m not _scared_ ,” he huffed, trying not to think about the extreme peculiarity of debating courses of action with a giant cat. “I simply don’t intend to walk right back out into your infernal King’s arms.”

“Oh, you didn't hear him say he was going back to the Hill?” said the cat.

Starscream had a swift mental image of Megatron sitting on some rough-hewn rock throne, maybe with spears crossed over it, presiding over a drunken revel of hooting goblin warriors with that damnable smirk of his, and felt a strange swooping in his stomach.

“Like we can trust that,” he snorted.

There was a tiny silence. The huge cat's pupils contracted in surprise, the round golden eyes fixed on Starscream.

“You think the King lied?” Thundercracker asked in a horrified squeak.

Startled, Starscream opened his mouth to answer and then shut it again. He thought of his goblin tormentor as his own private nemesis to rail against and loathe, almost like a monster he had invented himself. The idea of his having an outside existence, a reputation, and loyal friends had simply never occurred to the boy. He felt very peculiar.

“I—I—well, fine then!” he spluttered, unsure what to do with himself all of a sudden. “You lead the way, why don't you?”

As they walked away from the old oak trees, Skywarp fell into stride beside the huge cat, admiring his thick black fur. “I had a cat where we lived,” he chattered, “a big tabby one. He was wonderfully fluffy, like a soft winter blanket. I miss him terribly. He had green eyes. I hope he's happy with the cook. She always gave him butter because she said it was good for a cat's coat. Is it? Could you always talk? Do all goblin cats talk?”

“I think butter's good for everyone,” Thundercracker avowed seriously. “I have a cat, too, a white one with blue eyes. She spits at me when I try to talk to her in cat. I can never understand cats when they talk, except when they say things like 'feed me' or 'get away.' Some of the real cat goblins seem to understand them quite well, though. Oh!” he said as Skywarp tripped on a tree root. “I forgot you can't see well. Here”—and rearing back on his hind legs, he made a motion with his right paw. Starscream was amazed to see a small silver orb appear in the air. It cast its faint radiance like a captive moonbeam on the shadowed path around them.

“Oh, Thundercracker, you can do it, too!” Skywarp cried, enchanted with the reappearance of his favorite trick. The cat reared back on his hind legs again and gently batted the shining globe from one paw to the other, clearly enjoying the attention. The light threw silver ripples down his thick, sleek coat as it bobbed back and forth in the air.

“That's elf magic,” he said proudly. “The King taught me how to do it, and nobody in the whole kingdom can do it but me and the King. Isn't it pretty? It's a little moon. Of course, it's not good for much when the moon's just a sliver because it's a sliver, too, and you don't get anything at all when the moon is new. That's how elf magic generally is. It's pretty to look at, but it doesn't really get you anywhere. I know lots. Do you want to see some more?”

“No,” Starscream answered, at the same time that Skywarp clapped his hands together and exclaimed, “Yes, please!”

At Skywarp's enthusiastic confirmation, Thundercracker winked out the globe, and black shadow swallowed up the path. “I did that because this looks better in the dark,” he explained. The huge cat held out his paws and swiftly tapped the path before them, shrilling out a few words of command. Nothing happened for a second. Then a soft glow emanated from the ground at Thundercracker's feet as a tiny silver plant broke through the earth. Gracefully unwinding and arching through the air, it grew rapidly into a bush with shining silver leaves. Buds formed at the ends of its delicate branches and blossomed into a mass of shimmering golden lilies. The leaves rustled musically in the night breeze, and as the lilies swayed to and fro they tinkled like a carillon of tiny bells. Skywarp stared openmouthed, completely captivated by the plant's beauty, and even Starscream had to reluctantly admit that it was an impressive display.

“That's my best one yet,” piped the cat. “The King says I do it even better than he does, but they don't always turn out this good. It must be because the moon's close to full. Elf magic generally strengthens with the moon. That's sort of silly if you think about it because you can't really count on the moon.” 

“I’ve never had any issues with it myself,” said Starscream, feeling a sudden, inexplicable need to defend one of his favorite celestial bodies.

The cat waved his paw through the unearthly apparition, and the glorious plant disintegrated into a sparkly snowfall. In a few seconds, its shining particles vanished with a quiet whisper, and they were in darkness again. The cat relit his tiny moon and started down the path, the silver globe bobbing along just above his right shoulder.

“I can do more than elf magic, of course,” he added, padding along. “I'm good at goblin magic, too. It's lots more practical, like if you need to fight somebody or open a locked door. But I can't do any dwarf magic. Dwarf magic depends on stones, and they can tell if you're not dwarf. I'm not dwarf at all. The King can do some even though he doesn't look dwarf. Airachnia does dwarf magic a lot, and the real dwarves do it without even thinking. It's how they carry their loads and do their building and making. They're such little people, but they can do more with stone and metal than any giant ever could. They can just make the earth do anything.

Starscream remembered Airachnia bolting them to the ground, sticking them into place as if they had grown roots, and grimaced.

“Couldn't you teach me how to do a little magic?” Skywarp begged as he trotted to keep up with the cat. Thundercracker laid his ears back a little.

“I don't think so,” he said apologetically, “not if you're just human. Humans don't have any magic. Airachnia says they don't need it. They live just like cattle, chewing up the land and raising herds of babies. Everybody knows they’re God's favorites; they already get everything their own way. Elves and goblins got their magic from the First Fathers, and dwarves say they're related to rocks, so they just know how to ask rocks to behave. Airachnia says there's some humans who talk with the devils and get them to do things, but she says that's not magic, that's stupid, because devils always make sure they get paid better than they work.”

Starscream didn’t know what to say to this speech. The trees began to thin as they came within sight of the Lodge. All its windows were dark. Thundercracker immediately put out the little moon.

“I'll be right here if you need me,” he told them. “I'm glad it's not raining anymore. I have to look just like a regular cat all the time when I'm outside. We're not allowed to attract attention. Humans would think it was funny if they saw a dry cat sitting in the rain.”

As Skywarp thanked the cat, Starscream felt his head beginning to hurt. He was a little overwhelmed by all the help he had received that night from goblins. There was something deeply wrong in these unnatural monsters rallying around him, if only because the most urgent help he needed was some means to escape them. It made it very hard for him to decide how to battle them when they kept rushing solicitously to his aid. It was beginning to make him feel a bit ridiculous, which in turn made him irritable.

Skywarp was feeling no such qualms. Tonight was without question the most thrilling evening he had ever had. Of course, he could understand Starscream's outraged feeling about being a potentially captured bride—after all, who wanted to be a bride?—but goblin life obviously had its advantages. Pets, for instance. Even Thundercracker was allowed to have a cat, and for heaven's sake, he was one himself! And he could work magic, too. Skywarp felt a pang of envy. All he could do was embroidery. A lot of good that would do him if he ever had to open a locked door. Nor could he imagine people standing around marveling at a display of needlework.

Considering his lack of magical abilities, Skywarp decided it was a good thing that the Lodge doors were never locked. Starscream and Skywarp slipped inside and tiptoed up the stairs. Starscream felt like lying down on his bed without even changing clothes, he was so tired, but instead he involved Skywarp in a whispered council of war. Skywarp told him what had happened while Starscream was unconscious, and Starscream told him about the goblin King's decision to bring things to a swift conclusion.

“This is it, Warp, I know it,” he said urgently. “This is my last chance, and we have to make it work. We haven't tried to escape on foot. We might make it.”

Skywarp thought about this for a second. Then he sighed, thinking of his soft bed.

“All right. Where are we going to go?” he asked gloomily.

Starscream shot him a swift look of gratitude. “I don't know yet. We'll just go as far away as we can. Maybe we can get off goblin land in a day if we start early.”

Skywarp looked extremely skeptical. “We can't even walk as far as Hollow Lake in one day,” he pointed out, “and the goblin King said he stole his wife by the lakeshore.”

Starscream shivered at the thought of the ghastly mad bride. “We'll go the other direction, away from the Hill, and we won't bring anything but a picnic basket so we can avoid attracting attention. Go tidy up, Warp, and put on a clean outfit. We can't walk down a country road with blood and dirt all down our fronts. But don't light a candle, or Thundercracker will call the others. And don't wake up Aunt Prim!”

Skywarp slipped out, and Starscream changed quickly, wadding up his old clothes and stuffing them under the bed. Then he put on clean stockings and picked out another pair of shoes. He remembered losing one of his favorite pair in the woods. This was the second pair of trousers in a week, too, that he had destroyed in midnight scrambles. He surveyed the meager choices left in his wardrobe and despaired. He was out of trousers and had nothing left but an old blue dress, which he’d kept all these years because it was a present from his father before he’d given up hope of his eldest son following in Daybreak’s fashion choices. It was somewhat old-fashioned and certainly wouldn't be easy to scamper over rocky hills in. Starscream put it on anyway and sent bitter thoughts in Megatron's direction.

Then he splashed water into his washbowl and combed the blood out of his hair. By the light of the setting moon, he surveyed his uninjured forehead in the mirror. Try as he might, he could find no sign of the large wound Skywarp had described.

Skywarp tiptoed back in, carrying his shoes. He made a face when he saw his brother.

“Why are you wearing that nasty blue thing?” he wanted to know. “It's all wrinkled, and the sash makes you look five years old.”

Starscream sneered at him. “I am a little beyond such petty concerns as the state of my dress right now, Warp.”

“That's good,” said Skywarp. Then he brightened. “I know. If the goblin King sees you looking like that, maybe he'll change his mind.”

Starscream didn't see any reason to honor this with a reply. He grabbed his shoes and headed down to the kitchen where he pulled out a small wicker basket and piled some provisions into it.

“Let's go,” he whispered. “It's already dawn. We'll leave by the front door. If Thundercracker's still where he said he would be, we can keep the house between us.”

In a few minutes, they were hurrying down the gravel track through a rustling, dewy meadow, the forested hills to their backs now and the fields before them. Somewhere on these fields, Starscream remembered with a sinking heart, the goblins had kept watch around their bonfire. He wondered just how far their magical kingdom extended.

The exhausted boys stumbled along the pebbly track, stepping on their long shadows as the red sun rose over the Hill behind them. Starscream's shoes were cracked at the toes, and his feet began to ache. He tried to turn over the events of the night in his mind, but it all began to run together and change: he was arguing with Megatron; he was yelling at the goblin, and he was laughing; Airachnia came and looked at his palm, telling him to be careful. “I see danger in this hand,” she said, her black eyes huge, “from someone very close to you.”

Someone very close. Starscream came out of his doze with a start. He heard the clopping of horses' hooves coming along fast behind them. Swiftly, he grabbed the sagging Skywarp by the arm and glanced around for cover. There was none to be had. They were in the middle of a mowed field with not so much as a rock wall in reach. Starscream's heart pounded as he whirled to face his enemy. What right, he thought furiously, did the flopdoodle have to be out during the day?

But it was not Megatron who came bowling into sight over the ridge; it was the dogcart. The old mare stopped a few feet from them and dropped her head, blowing heavily. Steelrim Bryht climbed down from the seat, his wig askew and his handsome face brick red with anger.

“Master Quaesit,” he remarked heatedly, “you are quite beyond our ability to handle.”

* * *

He drove the boys to the Hall in silence. Skywarp fell asleep on the way. Starscream had considered throwing a tantrum, or running, or... _something_ other than simply climbing up into the seat with his horrible excuse for a guardian, but Steelrim was holding the horsewhip and he looked ready to use it on either of them. For his brother's sake, Starscream didn't want to find out if he was.

“Come with me, Master Quaesit,” Steelrim ordered when they arrived, leaving the cart at the door.

Starscream climbed down and looked back at his sleeping brother, a lump in his throat. I've lost my chance to escape, he thought. I won't see Warp again, and now I can't even say goodbye.

His guardian led him down the hall to one of the bedrooms. “I hope this will suffice for temporary accommodations.”

Starscream stared aghast at the elegant bedroom. It was on the ground floor, facing the dense forest of the Hill, and it opened out onto the shaded terrace via a pair of pretty double doors. Almost the whole wall by the terrace was window, covered with lacy curtains.

“For how long?” he demanded.

“For as long as it takes for you to get it into your pretty little head that you are not in danger here. You have become a danger to yourself and your brother, and we are quite at a loss as to what to do with you. For God’s sake, Master Quaesit!” And his guardian’s anger transmuted abruptly into something closer to despair and exasperation. “Do you honestly think I would ever allow you to come to harm?”

“Yes,” the boy answered immediately. “You’ve made it quite clear what you think of me these last few months!”

“What I think of you?” Steelrim Bryht’s eyes widened in surprise. “What I think of you is that you’re a beautiful, intelligent young person whose company and presence I was rather enjoying before all this goblin nonsense started up.”

Starscream blinked, gaping slightly and unable to find words before his guardian continued, expression softening.

“I had thought… Well, I have lived many years in solitude, Master Quaesit, and I had thought that my life would continue as such to the bitter end until you came here with your sharp wit and your bright eyes. I had never considered attaching myself to an androgyne, but I think I would not mind if it was you.”

“You… _What?_ ” Starscream stammered. His head seemed to have filled with nothing but an odd, echoing buzz.

“Why do you think I took the effort to make it clear to you that we are not so closely related as to make our match an inappropriate one? And now you’re running about the place raving about goblin kings trying to steal you away…” Steelrim Bryht heaved a heavy sigh. “But no matter. My affections are unchanged, and I intend to do my duty by you—see to it that you get the help you need.”

“If you want to help me, then let me out of this room!” Starscream finally found his voice to beg. “At least put me on the second floor or a room that doesn’t face the forest! If you actually have such intentions toward me, then maybe don’t be so quick to let another man drag me off!”

“A goblin man?” Steelrim Bryht asked with a pitying smile. “I know you will not believe me if I tell you there is no such thing, but I hope that finding yourself still here at the end of the day might help convince you. I will leave you to think on my proposal in the meantime.”

And then he was gone before Starscream could get out anything further. He heard the key turn in the lock behind his guardian.

Exhausted and frustrated, Starscream flung himself down on his bed to think. So, Steelrim Bryht wanted to marry him, did he? No wonder he’d objected so to the idea of taking his ward out into society to meet other men. The irony being that by keeping him here, he had set himself up to lose the object of his affections far more thoroughly than if Starscream had decided to attach himself to another one of his peers.

And there was another matter. Starscream couldn’t recall Steelrim Bryht ever having shown him anything like affection. In fact, ever since he had asked for his guardian’s help with the goblins, things had gotten worse and worse. Steelrim Bryht had practically accused him of insanity in front of the rest of their family, and now he had locked the boy up in a room perfect for goblin attack. Short of delivering him tied up to the goblins’ front door, Starscream couldn’t think of anything worse he could do. Of course, he concluded bitterly, Steelrim just wanted his young ward to face his fears. Starscream was pretty sure that was exactly what he would be doing once twilight came again. Between the goblin King and Steelrim Bryht, the boy was beginning to feel he’d rather go the rest of his life without ever getting another marriage proposal.

The day passed very slowly. Starscream tried hard not to think about what twilight would bring. Restless and lonely, he wandered about and studied the various diversions the room had to offer. Outside was a beautiful day. He stood for a long time at the window, watching the sun dapple the terrace.

It's my last chance to see sunlight, he thought miserably. My very last chance.

When his guardian brought lunch, Starscream refused to speak to him. He was finished giving the wretched man ideas on how to make him face his fears and didn’t much fancy hearing any other declarations of his feelings. If Steelrim was too well educated to believe in goblins, then Starscream wasn't going to change his mind.

Tired out from worry and all the late nights, he lay down on the bed and fell into a doze. When he awoke, the room was filled with the shadows of twilight. Starscream jumped up in a panic. What was it he had said to Airachnia? Handed over like a sack of potatoes. Not him! There had to be _something_ he could do!

How would the goblins attack him? They wouldn't hesitate to invade the house if they could do so undetected. They would doubtless make sure that he was unable to raise an alarm, and the easiest way to do that was to make sure that he was asleep. The goblin King controlled sleep with a magical ease. Starscream doubted he would even wake up until he was underground.

How could he raise an alarm if he were asleep? Starscream looked about for inspiration. A large crystal lamp stood on a table by the hall door. If he could pull the lamp down as he was being taken out, it would make a substantial crash.

Starscream quickly went to work. His light was going fast, and the shadows beneath the trees were getting thicker and blacker. He hastily ripped from his dress the sash that had so offended Skywarp's taste. It made a cloth rope about six feet long. He tied one end tightly around the base of the crystal lamp, then dropped the sash over the side of the table and pulled it underneath. He brought a pillow from the bed and lay down next to the hall door. Then he tied the other end of his makeshift rope to his ankle. Now if he moved away from his spot by his end of the table, the lamp would be tugged off its resting place and crash to the floor a few feet away.

Starscream pushed his dress hem down to hide the knot, reflecting that there were benefits to dresses after all, and huddled in a furious pitch of suspense for the attack. He was as far as he could be from those ominous double doors, and he felt well rested and alert. Maybe he could raise the alarm before the doors were even open. When they came, he thought excitedly, they would find him ready to meet them.

_Go to sleep, Star._

And that was that. One minute, he was wide awake, waiting for the first hint of trouble. The next minute he was locked in a profound slumber. The doors swung open to let in the quiet sounds of the deepening twilight, but Starscream slept on, trapped in a dreamless darkness beyond any possibility of action.

A loud knocking sounded on the door right above his head.

“Master Quaesit,” said Steelrim Bryht through the door, “a visitor has just arrived and is anxious to meet you. I'll give you a few minutes, and then I'd like you to join us.”

Starscream opened his eyes and stared straight into the mismatched eyes of the goblin King. Megatron crouched over him in the dusky gloom. He already had his arms around the boy, about to lift him from the floor, and his silver hair brushed Starscream's face. He froze, glancing toward the door as Steelrim Bryht delivered his message. Starscream tensed to scream, but Megatron absently laid a thick finger across his lips, and he found himself unable to make a sound.

As he twisted his head from side to side, trying to find his voice, he saw the goblin grin in amusement Starscream glared up at him in white hot fury and jerked his foot as hard as he could, yanking the lamp to the floor just beyond them. It hit the stone with a terrific smash, spraying Megatron's back with crystal shards. The goblin King turned, startled, to locate the source of the sound.

“Master Quaesit, what are you doing?” Steelrim Bryht called through the door. “What's happening in there?”

But Starscream was still unable to yell for help. Megatron's grip tightened on him.

This is when he drags me away, Starscream thought feverishly. In another second, he'll have me unconscious, and I'll wake up underground.

He struck at the goblin as hard as he could, clawing and fighting to break free.

“Master Quaesit, answer me. What's going on?”

The goblin had a number of solutions at his disposal, but it is hard to think or work magic while under attack. Starscream yanked his hair. When Megatron peeled his hand loose, he twisted and got an elbow into his chest. He threw out an arm and banged the door. As Megatron raised his six-fingered hand to touch the boy's forehead, Starscream sank his teeth as hard as he could into the thumb.

“That's it, Master Quaesit. I'm coming in there.”

Megatron pushed Starscream away and sprang to his feet. The boy scrambled to sit up and banged into the door, throwing his head back to glare defiance at his attacker. The goblin's face was twisted in a snarl of fury, his sharp teeth were bared, and his eyes blazed in the twilit room with their unmatched brightness. He raised his arms in front of him, the eleven fingers pointing out rigidly, dark drops clinging to his bleeding thumb. Starscream ducked his head instinctively, bracing for the lightning, or worse, that would follow. He felt the hall door push against him, but didn’t move.

The enraged goblin flicked out his hands, the fingers pointing away from Starscream, and moved them apart in a slow, deliberate circle of the room. Pictures sprang from the walls. Knickknacks and vases leapt from the furniture. Bookshelves overturned. The washstand upended. The room was filled with the sound of smashing, splintering, and crashing, and the air was filled with flying debris.

The goblin King glared down at Starscream, his pallid face haughty, as the boy cringed and shielded his eyes from the exploding fragments. Then he spun on his heel and walked rapidly from the room. As he passed through the open doors, he made a casual gesture. The doors slammed shut behind him with an unearthly force, and the glass from the whole expanse of window fractured and fell in.

Starscream staggered to his feet and watched him disappear into the shadow of the trees as the hall door swung open behind him. Somewhat dazed, he looked around at the wreckage. Twisted picture frames and powdered ceramic covered the floor. Books cascaded out of broken shelves, and bits of window glass spangled the Oriental rug.

“My God!” he heard a voice murmur behind him.

Starscream turned to find two men standing in the doorway, staring at the scene before them with open mouths. His guardian, refined face bloodless, clutched the door frame with both hands. As Starscream's gaze fell on them, Steelrim Bryht made an attempt to push himself upright.

“Master Quaesit,” he said, his voice unsteady, “meet Dr. Ratchet, head of the Westcross Asylum.”

Starscream turned around again and looked out at the black forest, delighted and amazed. He had faced the goblin King alone and had beaten him! He had been set out like bait in a trap with no friends, no weapon, and no magic, and he was still standing free in the moonlight, while the monster headed back to his horrible caves. He wanted to whoop and shriek, to yell insults into the darkening night. Instead, he turned around and faced the two men with a pleasantly concerned expression.

“There's been some kind of explosion,” he said, studying the doctor with cool curiosity. “Look, the windows blew in. Do the rooms next to this one have broken windows, too?”

Steelrim Bryht didn't seem to have heard the question. He had wandered a few steps into the room and was staring around in shock. Starscream felt a smug amusement. If his pompous guardian found a little thing like this so upsetting, then Starscream would love to see the look on the man's face if he saw the goblin King himself.

“I don't think we know,” said the doctor briskly. “I suppose we ought to check the other rooms for damage, Mr. Bryht.”

Steelrim Bryht glanced around distractedly and followed the doctor out. As soon as they left, Starscream bent and untied the knot from his ankle. He was just standing up and surveying the ripped sash when Mrs. Bigelow appeared in the doorway.

“What happened?” she gasped.

Starscream retied the damaged sash over his dress.

“I don't know, Mrs. Bigelow,” he said calmly. “Some kind of explosion. The men were just checking on things.”

The housekeeper's face sagged. She turned frightened eyes on Starscream.

“It's _them_ , isn't it, that did it?” she whispered darkly.

Starscream patted the torn sash into place and strolled past the housekeeper into the lighted hall.

“I really don't know what you're talking about,” he replied haughtily.

* * *

Later, sitting in the study, he sipped his tea and surveyed his new combatants with a serene assurance. He had just defeated a goblin with his own bare hands. The head doctor of a lunatic asylum couldn’t possibly frighten him now.

Dr. Ratchet was a fit, white-bearded man of fifty with small, rectangular spectacles perched on the end of his nose and a face that looked like it had seen most of what the world had to offer and found none of it especially promising. Starscream wished that they had met under different circumstances because he would have loved to share the whole tale of the goblins with the doctor and see if he could wipe that unimpressed expression off the man’s face. But he had no desire to be locked in an insane asylum, so the truth of what had happened in the bedroom would have to wait until he was alone with Skywarp.

“The other rooms weren’t damaged in the slightest,” Dr. Ratchet was saying. “Have you any idea what might have caused it, Master Quaesit?”

“None at all,” Starscream answered his own dark gaze fixed determinedly on the doctor’s piercing blue eyes. “I went to the door to respond to your knock. There was a devastating crash, and I hid my face and tumbled to the floor. I imagine it was a prank. One of the stable boys playing with gunpowder or coal dust. We should be glad that no one blew a hand off. Can you imagine the mess?”

Starscream’s guardian polished his spectacles with a grimace. “Master Quaesit, I’ve been to see Dr. Ratchet about you, and he very much wanted to meet you. He’s interested in your goblin visitor.”

“Oh,” remarked Starscream. “Do you study goblins?”

“Not as such,” the doctor told him. “I’m afraid I hadn’t much considered them before your guardian came to me.”

“Then we’d better call Mrs. Bigelow,” Starscream suggested, leaning back leisurely in his chair. “She can tell you all sorts of fanciful stories about them. Did you know her grandparents actually believed in goblins? Elves, too. Isn’t that the daftest thing you’ve ever heard?” He rolled his eyes theatrically. Steelrim Bryht stared at him, non-plussed, but Dr. Ratchet’s eyes narrowed.

“Now, wait a minute, Master Quaesit,” said Steelrim Bryht with a frown. “I just heard a story from your brother this afternoon stuffed chock-full of goblins. The goblin King was coming to drag you away.”

Starscream fixed his guardian with a scornful stare. “And you believed him? Really, Mr. Bryht, I thought you were a man of science.”

The doctor turned his dubious gaze from him to Steelrim Bryht, whose pale cheeks flushed a bright pink.

“Master Quaesit,” Steelrim said firmly, “you yourself said you were in terrible danger, and you begged me to send you away. You said the goblins were coming to drag you off, just like Sunwave Bryht in the story.”

Starscream shrugged, and found himself wishing that Megatron were there to see him. If lying was for humans, then by all means, let him lie.

“But I never thought you’d believe it,” he said artlessly. “I thought grown men knew that goblins couldn’t exist.”

His guardian rose from his chair and began pacing the floor. “What about that strange creature you saw the night of the storm? What about your hysterical dash through the door? Prim and Moonlight practically had to revive you.”

“I certainly didn’t invent that,” Starscream assured him. He turned to Dr. Ratchet. “My brother Skywarp and I got lost in a stormy night, and we stumbled onto a camp of Gypsies. An old woman told my fortune for me, and a Gypsy guided us home. He told us all kinds of terrible stories as we walked through the night, and he was entirely muffled in a black cloak and hood. When we arrived at the house, he pulled back the hood so I could see his face. Now, Aunt Prim says that if I saw him during the day, I would have thought he looked strange, but after that frightening walk and all those stories, I was quite rattled. It seems funny now. In fact,” he added bitterly, fiddling with the teacup in his lap, “I know he enjoyed scaring me into fits.” He looked up to find Dr. Ratchet watching him intently. Steelrim Bryht looked thunderstruck.

“But what about the nightmares?” he demanded angrily, pacing before the fireplace. “What about staying out all night? What about running away from home?”

“I can't deny the nightmares,” Starscream answered. He turned to back to the doctor, the picture of a proper and reasonable young man. “I know I worried my poor great-aunts. They're quite unused to the trials of parenthood. All three of my guardians are new to children, you know. Not at all accustomed to the _appropriate_ manner in which to treat us.” He smiled as he heard Steelrim Bryht draw in a sharp breath. “And it's true we were away from home late last night. My aunts and Mr. Bryht decided it would be good for my nerves to walk from one house to the other in the dark. Of course, we protested. You have to remember the shocking Gypsy we'd met just a couple of nights before. He could have been roaming the woods. And as a matter of fact, we were chased.”

“By the goblin King,” suggested Steelrim Bryht, looking over his spectacles meaningfully.

“No!” insisted Starscream, frowning at him as if he were a slow pupil. “We were chased by a couple of clodhopping hu—I mean, farm boys, out for a moonlight ride. They must have been playing a joke on us. Maybe they knew you and the aunts were going to send us out on a ghost walk.” He looked at his guardian, and Dr. Ratchet did as well. Suddenly and inexplicably, Steelrim Bryht's blush deepened to a dull, unhealthy red.

“We lost them at the tree circle,” continued Starscream, “and we rested there to catch our breath. It was so beautiful and peaceful there under the moon and stars.” He paused, remembering the unholy purple lightning and whipping winds. “I'm afraid we just fell asleep. When we woke up, it was so late that we went back to the Lodge because it was closer, and the aunts were already in bed. But I don't know why you thought we tried to run away. We were just heading out on a ramble with a picnic basket.”

Dr. Ratchet turned to his guardian. “They had only a picnic basket?” he asked. “No clothes, no belongings?”

Steelrim Bryht looked as if Starscream had personally insulted him, which he didn't think he had this time. Yet. “Master Quaesit, I warn you,” he said, gasping with rage. “I know you are lying, and you know it, too. You know you believe in goblins, and you know you aren't rational about them!” He glared at Dr. Ratchet. “He isn't! He isn't rational! He's insane!”

Starscream stared at the man in complete astonishment. Not that he minded, but this was a distinct shift from his guardian’s proposals of attachment and protection from just that morning. Steelrim Bryht had expressed concern that the object of his affections was making a break with reality, but he didn’t seem at all pleased to find that the boy had rejoined it. Starscream fell silent, feeling his guardian was doing a splendid enough job of embarrassing himself without any more lies on his part. Dr. Ratchet looked from the enraged man to the astonished boy and his frown turned thoughtful.

“Mr. Bryht,” he said firmly, “I think it would help my examination of your ward if we had a few moments alone.”

After some silent mouth flapping and gawping, Steelrim Bryht subsided and left the room. Dr. Ratchet turned his sharp eyes on Starscream, who looked back down at his hands.

“Mr. Quaesit,” he said in approximately the same tone of voice that Maelstrom Quaesit used to adopt when preparing to lecture his son. “You seem an intelligent sort, so I’m sure you understand what exactly my line of work is, and I’m sure you can imagine just how much time I spend sorting out fact from fiction in what my patients tell me.”

“Surely,” Starscream agreed. “What’s your point, sir?”

“Why are you toying with your guardian like this?”

The boy licked his lips and lifted his eyes to meet the doctor’s gaze again. “Because I can’t stand him,” he said, and he could taste the venom in the sentiment as it passed across his tongue.

“Understandable, given what I’ve seen,” Dr. Ratchet conceded, “but he’s one of your only remaining relatives. Surely—” He cut off when Starscream let out a bark of cold laughter.

“Did he not tell you then?” he asked. “He’s not related to me at all. My brother and I are the result of an adoption several generations back. We supplanted Mr. Bryht’s side of the family. I have no real family left except Skywarp, and Mr. Bryht made sure I knew it, so perhaps we can be forgiven playing a prank or two on him.”

Dr. Ratchet gave a grunt and stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Supposing I believe that, Mr. Bryht mentioned other factors that are hard to explain as high spirits and pretend games: poor sleep, loss of appetite, and a feeling of being watched. Whatever you say, you do appear rather thin and off-color.”

“Well, excuse me for not being in peak condition after losing my father and being shipped halfway across the countryside to fake relatives who don’t want me here anymore than I want to be here!” Starscream snapped, grip tightening on the handle of his teacup as, to his horror, he felt actual tears start to sting his eyes and a lump rising in his throat.

Dr. Ratchet’s gaze softened then, a gentle twinkle kindling in his sharp eyes. “It must have been a terrible shock,” he said. “And to have your brother to care for on top of that. I have seen men far older than you crumble under such burdens.”

Starscream bit his lip and turned away, refusing to break. There was no space truly safe to do so now that his father was gone.

“Well, Mr. Quaesit,” Dr. Ratchet sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I was afraid of something like this. It explains a great deal. I don’t think you need to worry about insanity, Mr. Quaesit, though I pity those who cross you and I admit I feel a touch disappointed in the whole affair,” he added with a rueful smile. “When I saw the wreckage in that bedroom this evening, I really thought I was onto something.”

“What do you mean?” asked Starscream.

“I help people who are insane,” he declared, “but I specialize in a particular area thereof. You see, there’s much about the mind that we don’t understand. Sometimes, in great stress, people do things that are well beyond their physical powers, and sometimes insane people do them, too. It’s as if, not knowing what reality is supposed to be, they can go beyond those limits that we accept for ourselves.”

“Do you mean they can work magic?” Starscream wanted to know.

“Yes, well,” Dr. Ratchet’s expression twisted in distaste. “Some do like to put it that way, and much of my work is centered on proving them wrong. I would say these people can do the extraordinary and inexplicable because they accept it as a part of their world, and there’s an awful lot of ill done by the sorts of people who bolster superstitions to the contrary. For instance, we have a woman in the asylum who thinks she’s a rabbit. I’ve had specialists measure how far she can jump, and it shouldn’t be possible. I rescued her from a village that wanted her tried for witchcraft. Witchcraft, I tell you! In the year of our Lord 1800!” He shook his head in disgust. 

“Another patient thinks she’s two completely different people,” he continued. “She crushed her foot one day, and we found her walking around on this badly damaged foot normally and without the least sign of pain. Why? Because she claimed that the other of her two selves had broken the foot. The person she was at the moment was perfectly well. When we first found her, she was being advertised by an evangelist as a woman sharing her body with a spirit of a dead saint. He sold her ravings as doctrine and kept her half-starved and barely clothed because he said an ascetic life helped bring out the saint in her.”

Starscream made a face, reflecting that there were, perhaps, people more unfortunate than himself in this world after all. “So when you saw all the broken glass and torn-up furniture, you thought that I had done it,” he said. Dr. Ratchet nodded. 

For a moment, Starscream considered telling this doctor everything after all and letting himself be taken off to the asylum. It would put him out of the goblin King’s reach to be sure, but it would be nothing more than trading one type of imprisonment for another and, furthermore, would mean giving up his lands to Steelrim Bryht.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you. I didn’t do it, and I don’t think I could do it, either.”

* * *

Several hours later, Starscream snuggled down comfortably in bed. Yes, he was still at the Hall, and yes, his indignant guardian had locked him in again (blessedly without any further mentions of his poorly-timed proposal or subsequent outbursts). He was once more in a ground-floor bedroom with double doors leading onto the terrace. The designers of the Hall's fashionable newer wing hadn't exhibited much creativity from one room to the next. But he and Dr. Ratchet had talked until early in the morning, and a new day was not far off. He had vanquished two different enemies on two very different fields of battle. Neither one was gone for good, but that was a problem for tomorrow. Today had been simply glorious, and he would take care of tomorrow when it came.

A knock at the door roused him in the late morning, and Steelrim Bryht entered the room. But this was not the pompous man he had infuriated the night before. His eyes were large and grave, and his manner was uncertain.

“Master Quaesit, I'm terribly sorry,” he said hesitantly. “I realize now that I should have believed you. You said you were in danger, but I never dreamed it might be real.”

Starscream sat up, confused and a little alarmed.

“I'm afraid it's your brother,” the man explained awkwardly. “Skywarp has completely vanished.”


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for an attempted rape at the beginning of this chapter. NOT from the goblin King.

Steelrim Bryht had expected Starscream to cry at the news, but he did not. Instead, he lay on his bed, face in the pillow, and refused to look up or speak.

“You have to help us find him,” his guardian insisted. “You must know something about the creatures who took him. Dr. Ratchet and I will go out with the men and see if we can't bring him back.” Starscream just shook his head, mute. Steelrim Bryht awkwardly stood by, not sure what to do.

“Don't you want out of this dangerous room?” he asked. “I'll let you out if you'll talk to us. For heaven's sake, I'm his guardian! I can't just let him disappear like this!” Silence from the bed.

“I'll send you away from here right now,” he promised. “I'll send you someplace where you'll be safe. Master Quaesit, please. Don't you want to be safe from those creatures?”

Face in the pillow, Starscream considered. Did he want to be safe? What difference did being safe make now? How could the useless beast have done it, how  _ could _ he!? Starscream knew the goblin had been furious when he left last night, and he had said once that he was a poor loser. But how could anyone—even someone inhuman—have threatened his little brother? Poor, dear Warp, all alone in those hideous caves, surrounded by howling monsters.

He remembered the King laughing, saying, “Do you know that he wants to be stolen by goblins?” and bitter fury twisted his insides. But then he also remembered Megatron saying that he wouldn’t take Skywarp because he was far too young to be a goblin bride. He thought on how the King, for all his teasing and tantrums, had never done anything to harm either of them. In fact, he’d been in quite the fury the other night when Starscream had avoided his capture by running into the trees, and had said himself that he could have taken either boy at any time that evening had he wanted. But he didn’t. He’d tended their wounds and answered Skywarp’s questions instead. Why then had he chosen now to take Skywarp? It made no sense.

Starscream paced his room that day like a tormented soul, thinking until his head hurt. When Steelrim Bryht came several more times to plead with him, he remained absolutely firm. Then, as twilight fell, his guardian returned once more. This time, the man stood silently by the door after he’d shut it behind himself, and Starscream didn’t move from his spot on the bed, staring out at the shadows of the forest. He could feel the other’s eyes on his back.

“Master Quaesit… Starscream,” Steelrim Bryht finally spoke, and Starscream finally turned. His guardian wore a strange expression, flustered and flushed, his eyes dark. “I have been thinking, and… Have you at all considered my proposal?”

“Considered it?” Starscream sneered at him. “I’ve considered having Dr. Ratchet examine  _ you _ for even suggesting it.”

His guardian’s mouth tightened. “My dear Starscream, you must understand the importance of this proposal at this moment. The goblins take only those who are yet unmarried. Perhaps it is too late for your brother, but we can certainly ensure that it is too late for the goblin King when he comes for you.”

Starscream actually laughed out loud at that. “I would  _ rather _ marry the goblin King than you!” he spat. “At least  _ he _ has some style about it.”

“You’ll talk about the goblins now, then?” A note of hope flashed across Steelrim Bryht’s face.

Starscream scowled and turned back to the darkening forest outside, clamping his mouth shut once more. Soft footfalls approached the bed and his guardian moved to draw the heavier curtains across the windows.

“Stop looking for them,” Steelrim Bryht said as he stepped closer, and Starscream glared up at him. “And stop making that face. You’re so lovely when you smile.”

“Be reasonable, Mr. Bryht. You’re almost old enough to be my father,” Starscream pointed out, a sense of unease suddenly creeping up his back. That dark, searching look was back on his guardian’s face.

“You are very beautiful, Starscream. In such a wild, exotic sort of way, too. I would want to steal you away too, were I a goblin king.”

“Get out,” Starscream snapped, and he made to stand up so that he could put more distance between them. But Steelrim Bryht was close enough now to reach out and take the boy by the shoulders, pushing him back down to his place on the bed.

“I am sorry that it has to happen this way,” he said, his voice dropping. “But I can’t have them taking you. Please understand. All will be well once we are married before God.”

And Starscream couldn’t speak now. His voice stuck in his throat as he tried to make sense of his guardian’s words. Then, all at once, he was on his back on the bed and the man was climbing on top of him and suddenly he understood. Starscream opened his mouth to scream and a sweaty, ink-stained hand clamped over it, fingers gripping his face until his jaw ached.

“Hush! I’m trying to save you, you idiot boy! Let me take you, and surely the goblins will realize it’s all in vain and release your brother. Don’t you think?”

But Starscream wasn’t about to let someone like Steelrim Bryht take from him what he wouldn’t give even the King of the goblins. He sank his teeth into the hand over his face, and while Steelrim was howling in pain, he swung a fist up to the side of the man’s head. The white wig went flying in a puff of powder. Steelrim Bryht was too heavy for his young ward to shift, but he’d pulled his hand away from Starscream now, and the boy took a deep breath, preparing to scream. A blow found his face before he could, and Starscream lay dazed for a moment, unable to react to the leg between his own or the hands at his neckline.

Then, his senses came back, and he drew one of his legs up and kicked at the man with all his strength. This time, Steelrim Bryht tumbled to the floor with a grunt, and Starscream scrambled up after him, tasting blood in his mouth as he reached for the candelabra on the bedside table. His guardian looked up just in time to see the heavy brass object swinging down toward him before crumpling beneath the blow.

Starscream stood, breathing heavily as he stared at the man’s large frame lying in a heap, blood trickling onto the carpet. Then he tossed the candelabra aside and hurried to open the curtains once more with shaking hands. All day long, he’d been working over a choice in his mind, and now he was decided.

No sooner were the curtains open than he saw the familiar face of the big black cat peering out from under the shadows. Starscream called him over with a gesture. Looking first left and then right, the cat darted out of his cover to approach.

“What happened?” Thundercracker asked through the small gap where the terrace doors did not shut properly.

Starscream tried to speak and found his voice stuck in his throat. He had to clear it several times before he could get the words out. “Where is the King?”

“He’s in court now,” piped the cat. “What’s going on? You’re shaking! What happened to your face? Did  _ you _ knock that man out?”

“I need to see him right away,” Starscream said, ignoring the questions.

The cat looked at him through the glass of the double doors. His round golden eyes grew rounder.

“You do?”

“Yes, but don't call him, Thundercracker. I need you to take me to see him.”

The cat's eyes were huge now.

“You do?” he squeaked. “All right. I'll take you.” He paused for a second. “The King will surely be surprised.”

“Good,” said Starscream grimly. At least he may get that satisfaction out of this.

The cat laid his paws on the doors, and they swung open. How easy, thought Starscream disgustedly. How childishly simple. He stepped quickly across the terrace and into the darkening forest, fleeing the room and Steelrim Bryht’s unconscious form with the black cat in the lead.

Half an hour later, they were standing in front of a cliff face. Thundercracker reared up on his hind legs, balancing quite easily. “Here, take my paw,” he said, and Starscream did so. “It might help if you close your eyes.”

“Not a chance,” Starscream sniffed.

“No? Well, um... Just take five steps forward then.”

Starscream took a breath, fixing his gaze on the stone wall in front of him and wondering what sort of magic was about to take place. Whatever it was, this was it. Drippy caverns. Darkness. He felt dizzy. He stepped forward, following Thundercracker's lead, and his foot passed straight through the stone. The rest of him came shortly after. There was a moment of worrying, suffocating blackness, and then Starscream found himself blinking in astonishment at dazzling light.

He was not in a drippy cavern, at least not yet. Instead, he felt as if he had walked into the middle of a kaleidoscope. Mirrored surfaces faced him on all sides. Even the floor was a fractured mirror. He and the black cat were reflected hundreds of times, each time at a more drastic angle. He began to feel rather seasick. Black-cloaked guards approached them from many directions, and it was a few seconds before he realized that this was only one guard reflected many times.

“You really might want to shut your eyes for this part,” suggested Thundercracker. “This can be confusing if you've never seen it before. It's supposed to make it hard for enemies to find the next doorway.”

Starscream stubbornly kept his eyes wide open as Thundercracker talked to the guard. Eventually, they walked forward, and he thought for sure that it would be drippy caverns beyond the next door.

But no, they were in a long, straight corridor of polished black stone, lit by globe-shaped lamps hanging from brackets on the walls. Goblin guards of various shapes and sizes walked about the corridor. Some of them took Starscream's breath away. They all appeared to be wearing a variation of Megatron's normal black attire, and this combined withe the black stone of the corridor made them difficult to see. Starscream realized how appropriate a uniform was for creatures who would only be out during the night. It was little wonder that humans seldom saw a goblin.

At the end of this corridor was a huge door several times higher than Starscream. It appeared to be solid iron. He looked around, waiting for another guard to emerge and let them through. Instead, a deep, hollow voice rang out. It seemed to come from the door itself.

“Hello, little Thundercracker,” said the voice.

“Hello, door,” piped the cat.

“Didn't I just let you out?” asked the door, sounding puzzled.

“I need to see the King,” Thundercracker said earnestly.

“Who is the pretty boy?” asked the deep voice.

“He needs to see the King, too,” said Thundercracker.

“Are you sure I should let him in?” The door seemed rather doubtful.

“The King wants to see him, too,” Thundercracker assured it.

There was a pause. “They could see each other out here,” the door suggested.

“The King's in court. Come on, door, I'm in a hurry,” complained the cat. The door slowly swung open, and they walked through. Starscream stopped on the other side, and felt the breath sigh out of his chest in spite of himself.

Ahead of him lay what he knew must be a vast cave, but it didn't resemble one at all. He seemed to be looking across a narrow valley under an intensely black night sky. He stood on a wide street that dipped down to the shallow valley floor and then rose up again beyond it. Beside him, rows of trees filled with colored lights marched down the slight incline. Along the very bottom of the valley ran a small river, and the street crossed it on a low, arched bridge before climbing upward again through elegant formal gardens.

On the far side of the valley, the street became entrance steps to a palace so wide and so massive that it completely blocked their view of whatever lay beyond. Story upon story of colossal square windows shone out onto the park. The architecture reminded Starscream of ancient Greece or Egypt—that is, if a titanic ancient temple could rise so high into the sky.

No, not the sky. No friendly stars winked down at him. Starscream squeezed Thundercracker's paw in a flurry of panic and pictured the stars that were just coming out in the sky beyond this cave. They settled into their proper places in his mind, their silvery light mingling with the rising full moon, giving him the courage to face whatever lay ahead.

“Do you want go back out?”

“Oh, no, I'm sorry, door,” answered Thundercracker. “We were just looking around.”

“Because I'm not allowed to let you back out,” said the door gravely.

“No, no, thanks,” replied the cat, and started down the street toward the palace.

“I'll have to wait for orders,” the door said stubbornly as they walked away.

“It's really so stupid!” fumed the cat in a shrill hiss. “They're all like that. The King says they're just supposed to delay an enemy long enough for the rest of us to find it and kill it.”

They were passing the rows of glimmering trees. These looked like graceful saplings perhaps three times Starscream's height, but he could see that they were entirely artificial. The slim trunks and branches gleamed like solid gold, and throughout their crowns, huge, jeweled flowers bloomed. From the boughs hung colored lanterns, casting a faint light that illuminated dark green stone, not grass. The garden paths between the rows were mosaics of pale, polished rock.

As they walked, the delicate flowering trees gave way to thick summer growth, the rich green stone leaves almost paper-thin. Soon they passed dark bronze trees loaded with stone foliage in polished reds, oranges, and yellows and came to Starscream's very favorites, the trees by the river. These had trunks and branches of silver, the slender boughs loaded with delicate, tinkling clear crystals. Beneath them shone snow white paving stones. The crystals caught the pale light of their lanterns and refracted it in delicate rainbows onto the stone below.

“We need to hurry,” Thundercracker urged as Starscream lingered to look at the beautiful trees, just one of which was likely worth all of Hallow Hall together.

Tugging the awestruck boy along, he crossed the river. The shallow water foamed over rapids carefully composed of small cubes of rock sticking up from the shallow riverbed. Water in Starscream's world would catch the moonlight, but this river needed none. The many bubbles of foam appeared to shine with their own soft light.

Now the pair was climbing the steps toward the palace. Beds of fanciful jeweled flowers alternated with musical fountains, and lamps of all colors lined the paths. Starscream felt again that the light was rather faint. How splendid these gardens would be in the daylight, he thought. Then, with bitter disgust, he realized that it would never be day here. He was seeing the gardens not at night, but as they would always be.

The palace had no doors. Starscream and Thundercracker stepped into an entrance hall several stories high, its outer wall pierced by huge windows. The enormous chandelier needed no candles because the crystals themselves shone. In their dim light, a huge double staircase curved up before the pair. On the wall between the wide flights of stairs, a mosaic of glass tiles sparkled with all the colors of a sunset.

Thundercracker pulled him down a corridor to the right. Starscream felt rather giddy. He could absorb his surroundings only in snatches—here a hall with walls and floor of polished jade, there a hall of burnished lapis lazuli. While there was artwork everywhere, none of it represented anything he could understand. The smooth floor sparkled with scatterings of brilliant mosaic tiles in complicated, almost random patterns, and the walls were inlaid with horizontal bands of contrasting stones. They turned a corner and whisked by a tiny feathered creature rather like a yellow mop head.

The big black cat led Starscream through a deep arch, and he stopped short. He stood on a broad landing between two wide curving staircases under an enormous dome. Below him lay the circular floor of this vast round chamber. The room was dimmer that Starscream found comfortable, but he could see at a glance that it was bustling with monsters, all of them stylishly—not to say foppishly—dressed. Thundercracker towed him down the staircase, bumping through the crowd, and Starscream very nearly refused to go with him.

The first sight of Megatron had been enough to send Starscream into an hysterical panic, and Megatron himself had mentioned the possibility that a boy or girl would want to run back home after a glimpse of his goblin subjects. Starscream stared at the jumbled assortment of huge ears, strange limbs, fur, feathers, and hair, unable at first to sort out anything of what he saw. Then he began to form scattered impressions.

The girl in the yellow satin evening gown with her hair in a tall coiffure would have been pretty except for her extreme resemblance to a cat. Her small round face, huge eyes, and tiny nose were startling enough, but the little split cat mouth and the foot-long whiskers had Starscream looking away hurriedly. Then there was the burly man in the elegant red coat. His left arm was normal, but his right was huge, brown, and furry, and it ended in four-inch-long claws. And there were all the little creatures in the crowd, many no taller than Starscream's knees. Some of them stood on rolling metal platforms and were wheeled about by liveried servants.

Monster piled on monster in his field of view: the eight-foot-tall, unbelievably thin man with a long, long gray face; the woman with the dog's paws and large, floppy spaniel ears who looked quite elegant in a rose-colored dress of shirred silk; the figure with the high stiltlike legs who wore the most remarkable deep blue trousers. Goblins obviously favored wigs, lace, ribbons, bright colors, and extravagance. Even those creatures who had fur or feathers wore something rich and vibrant, if only a jeweled turban or a hat with a long plume.

Everywhere, turning toward Starscream from the crowd, were pale goggle eyes, huge cat eyes, flowing red eyes, bright bird eyes, as the creatures caught sight of the one thing that did not usually appear in a goblin court: a wide-eyed human boy. A whispering, growling, hissing sprang up as he walked by. Starscream became painfully aware of his smudged and bruised cheeks, his tousled hair, his cracked shoes, and his crumpled blue dress with the ripped sash and neckline. He saw now that many of the goblins were staring at his disheveled state with as much horror as he felt at their own hideous deformities. Starscream sucked in a deep breath and held his head higher in response.

Thundercracker stubbornly towed the boy across the huge expanse of floor to the throne, an elaborate affair that resided under an embroidered canopy on a broad circular platform of stone. And on that raised circle, his back to them, stood the King, talking to two other goblins as they looked together at some manuscript spread out on a golden stand. He was elegant in a suit of dark green cloth, his silver shock of hair neatly tied back with a black velvet ribbon. Over the suit's tailored coat, he wore a short black cape painted with strange golden symbols. He wore no boots; his dark green breeches buckled at the knees, ending in fine black stockings and low shoes. Starscream's own father, greeting important visitors, had never been more formally nor fashionably dressed.

As they approached and the King turned, Starscream realized in a flash what it meant to be elf-pretty in a goblin world. Once he had burst into tears at Megatron’s inhuman appearance. Now he almost did so again at the strangely welcome sight of his familiar, somewhat human face at the end of such a strange and trying day.

Thundercracker stopped before him and swept into a deep bow. Starscream wrinkled his nose at the cat and wondered if simply not bowing would portray the right amount of disdain for the King or if he should make some sort of rude gesture. Before he could decide, Megatron stepped forward and captured the boy's hands in his own.

“Star!” he shouted. “What in the name of all you call holy are you doing here? You are the last person—the very  _ last _ person—that I expected to see! What’s happened to you? You look like you’ve been through the mill. Have you been running through the woods with your eyes shut?”

Starscream set his features into a defiant glare and pulled his shoulders back as he summoned up the line he had rehearsed over and over again on the walk here.

“I have come here of my own free will to say that I agree to marry you if you can return my brother to me unharmed, and help me wreak vengeance on those who have wronged me.”

There! He’d said it. The King stared at him, gave a long slow blink, and then glanced sharply at Thundercracker. Starscream couldn’t help a bit of a smile. He may be trading away his freedom, but he intended to sear this moment in his memory—possibly the last one when he would hold all the power. But when he turned back, Megatron’s face simply creased into a frown and his right hand came up to brush carefully at the bruise on Starscream’s cheek. The boy flinched away from the touch.

“What happened?” Megatron wanted to know.

“Does it matter?” Starscream snapped bitterly. “You wanted me and now here I am, and I have things for you to do!”

“Thundercracker?” the King inquired.

“I don’t have any idea,” squeaked the cat in surprise. “He never told me why he wanted to see you, and he was like that when I picked him up.”

“It’s not important,” insisted Starscream, for he had no intention of ever telling anyone what had happened in that bedroom today. “I simply have someone I need revenge on. Isn’t that, like, your thing?”

The King gave him a searching look, which Starscream couldn’t meet. “Revenge is an honored goblin pursuit,” Megatron said, his tone lightening, “but I do like to know why I’m seeking it. If you don’t want to tell me yet, then so be it, but at least explain to me what’s happened to your brother.”

And this time, Starscream looked up and met the King’s gaze head-on, a furious fire that had been simmering low in his gut all day finally flaring to its full strength.

“Steelrim Bryht has him,” he spat. “And I want you to  _ destroy _ him for me.”


	9. Chapter Eight

Megatron stepped away from Starscream with a wicked grin and unfastened the short cape from his shoulders. An improbable-looking black hair creature with short legs shuffled up behind him, its head barely higher than the King’s knees. It reached up incredibly long, skinny, apelike arms, and plucked the cape from his shoulders. At the same moment, a goblin in livery boomed out something in a loud voice. Starscream heard a rustling and turned to see the entire crowd sink into a low bow. Megatron didn’t appear to notice. He was already talking rapidly in his own language to Thundercracker and the two goblins stood with him. The cat darted off, racing on all fours through the crowd. Megatron caught Starscream’s hand again and walked through a small door behind the throne, which somehow led back into the great entrance hall.

“What I want to know,” the King said seriously, “is why you think my cousin would bother kidnapping your brother to begin with. Did he tell you that he had?”

“He just about as good as,” Starscream snorted. “He came to me this morning and told me that Warp had vanished. He wanted me to tell him all about you so they could start a search for him. But I wouldn’t talk to him. And I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t know what it was he wanted me to talk about goblins for, but I’m pretty sure he took Skywarp to hold over my head if I didn’t do what he wanted.”

Megatron shot him a penetrating look. “And what was it that he wanted?”

“The same thing you do, as a matter of fact,” Starscream told him, and Megatron stopped walking abruptly.

“Star,” he said, “tell me everything that happened from the time I left last night to the time you came away with Thundercracker. I’ve not been paying enough attention to your human friends.” He paused. “No, on second thought, tell me everything that happened from the time I left you in the clearing. That’ll give you a chance to talk about chewing on my thumb.” He made a noise between amusement and disgust. “I expect you’ll enjoy that.”

As Starscream talked, they walked along hallway after hallway and up staircase after staircase. The lovely polished stone gave way to rougher surfaces and plain doors. Megatron listened attentively and asked a number of questions. Starscream related the whole affair to him: Steelrim Bryht’s unexpected proposal, the interview with Dr. Ratchet, and how his suspicions had begun to grow over the course of the day.

“It just didn’t seem right. You’ve kept Warp out of all this for the most part, and you don’t seem like that kind of evil creature,” Starscream eventually admitted. “You’ve never done anything to actually harm us, you’ve… you’ve given me your word you would never do anything against my will aside from bring me here, and you never lie, and those of your people whom I’ve met are… Well, I suppose they’re tolerable enough. Thundercracker’s magic certainly doesn’t seem evil or harmful.”

Megatron hummed thoughtfully at this point. “And so you assumed your other unwanted suitor must be the culprit, did you?”

“No,” Starscream said, and then paused as he deliberated on how to explain the next part without actually telling what had happened. “Steelrim Bryht said to me that if I married him, then I would be safe from you, and you’d have to give Skywarp back, and I thought that was an odd thing for him to think when all of the stories in this area about goblins say quite clearly that you’ll keep anyone capable of bearing children underground for as long as it takes to get your squalling goblin brats…” Starscream trailed off with a sinking feeling as he realized that his own child was going to be one of those squalling goblins now. At least it was unlikely that he would live long enough to have to deal with it. All of his childbearing ancestors had died in childbirth, after all.

“And then I thought it was weird for him to have suddenly changed his mind about goblins in the first place,” he continued, trying to push these morbid thoughts from his mind. He had plenty of time to dwell on the consequences of his choice. For now, he needed to focus on reaping the benefits. “Why would he think Warp had been taken by goblins instead of just having run off and gotten lost? Unless… Unless he had some reason to know where Warp was.”

When the boy finished this speech, the King remained deep in thought. He absently tugged the ribbon from his hair, combed his fingers through it, and shook it out, still pondering. Then he turned toward Starscream, his strange eyes gleaming with excitement.

“So you just walked in the front door unannounced to trade your life for your revenge,” he said. “By the sword, Star, I’m impressed! It’s almost unbelievable. What a King you’ll bear!” he said admirably. “A better one than I, there’s no doubt.”

Starscream could think of no possible reply to this distressing reminder of everything he was trying not to think about, but Megatron expected none. He stopped in a dark passage at a large, wide double set of doors. “Your first dank cavern, Star,” he rumbled in amusement, pulling one door open.

Starscream stepped into a big, empty cave of native rock lit by the familiar globe lamps. A large, flat wall at the far end appeared to be a dark mirror, a gentle rustling sound coming from its glinting depths. As they approached it, he jerked Megatron's hand in an attack of vertigo. The wall was a sheet of calm black water, gently lapping the roof and floor. It looked just like the surface of any pond or lake except that it was vertical. Amid the gentle ripples, he could see his startled reflection and the goblin's amused one. He reached out and dipped his hand into the wall, stirring the cool water, and then pulled it out wet and watched it drip onto the cavern floor.

“That's enough,” Megatron laughed. “You're making waves. Back up a few steps so we can see what we're doing. And you don't need to hang onto my hand like that. If you don't jump in, you're not likely to drown.” Starscream hastily let go of the King’s hand with a haughty noise to show that he wasn’t scared in the least. “Now, let's see where your brother is,” he continued meditatively. “It'll be a lot harder if he's already far away.”

Their reflections faded from the water's surface. In their place appeared a low, cluttered room full of boxes, old furniture, and sacks of various descriptions. A candle burned on a three-legged table, and on a musty couch lay the small, thin figure of Skywarp. He was bundled into some kind of restraining jacket, and his eyes were tightly blindfolded. His mouth was muffled by a voluminous gag. Not only were his ankles bound with a wide scarf, but several turns of rope over the couch kept him from rolling to the floor. Starscream let out a cry of fury at the sight.

“I'll admit it,” said Megatron brightly. “Your brother certainly does need releasing. Do you recognize this place?” Starscream shook his head. “Let's back up, then.”

The image changed, and Starscream saw the familiar shape of the Hall under a lovely full moon. Megatron pointed at a faint golden light coming from one of the basement windows.

“That's where Warp is,” he said calmly. “Now, let's see. Who else is in the house?”

Starscream jumped as several goblins walked quietly up to join them. Two were the goblin men from the dais. One had long white fangs and eyes like a cat's, and the other was so hideous that Starscream couldn't look at his face without his lip curling subconsciously in disgust. Megatron didn't turn around to acknowledge the newcomers. He was looking into the study at Dr. Ratchet and Steelrim Bryht. They appeared to be arguing, Steelrim with a cold compress pressed to his temple where Starscream had struck him earlier. The scene dissolved, only to be replaced by the Hall kitchen. Mrs. Bigelow sat alone at the big wooden table, her wrinkled face wet with tears.

“Is that all?” mused the King. “Where are the others? Let's see—where's John, the stable boy?” Again the scene dissolved and was replaced, this time by a view of a path through the moonlit woods. A whole party of servant men was walking along with several hounds on leashes. “There are the men. But the women? Where's the cook? Oh, he's used them to send a message to the Lodge,” he remarked, studying the shifting images. “My guess is each and every one of them refused to make the trip alone.”

Starscream glared into the parlor at Hallow Hill Lodge where his aunts sat weeping on the couch, surrounded by the maids, the Lodge cook, and the Hall cook. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment that Megatron seemed to know more about his estate than he did himself.

The King turned away from the water and began talking to the two goblins from the throne room. The hairy black creature who had taken his cape trotted up with a bundle of bulky clothing balanced on a stool, forming a mound so high compared to its diminutive stature that only its eyes were visible above it. As it turned toward Starscream, he noted with interest that its eyes were large and brilliant orange in color. Beside it trotted another, smaller creature of similar shape carrying boots. This creature had orange hair and black eyes instead and so was the reverse of its larger twin.

The black-haired one plopped the stool down before the King and gathered up the clothing. Megatron sat down, deep in conversation with the goblin men, who were apparently his lieutenants. The small orange goblin wedged the King's shoes off deferentially and handed him thick socks, which he absently pulled on. It handed the King first one black boot and then the other.

Thundercracker trotted through the door. Behind him, a huge yellow-eyed ape swung in on his knuckles. At this point, Starscream was unsurprised to find that the ape was covered with dark gray feathers rather than fur. Another one swung in after the first, identical except that his feathers were dirty white. A week ago, all these goblins might have been quite distressing, but now the boy only appreciated that they were here for him, to rescue his brother and wreak his revenge, regardless of what they looked like.

The next two goblins _were_ rather distressing, regardless of whose side they were on, and Starscream gave a small squeak of alarm at the sight of them and moved a little closer to Megatron. The King looked up at the newcomers as he pulled on his boots and exclaimed in satisfaction. The two goblins had skinny, stilt-like legs longer than their King was tall and similar long, polelike arms. Their bodies and heads were quite tiny by comparison, resembling round, fat barrels with knobs on the top. Each held a large paintbrush in one hand and a paint bucket in the other. As the King rattled off orders, they glided about restlessly on their long folding legs and put their arms out sideways, bending and straightening them. They reminded Starscream sickeningly of spiders.

Megatron rose and went back to the water mirror. The two tall, spidery goblins followed him. Hand out, the King called up the image of the search party. They were at the shadowy cliffs of the Hill now, lanterns swaying, standing and arguing. The search party became smaller as he backed the mirror away from the scene. In a few seconds, Starscream saw tall black trees crowd the foreground.

Now, Megatron cupped his hands, frowning into them in concentration. A white smoke lapped over his fingers and began drifting to the cavern floor. He held his hands out toward the mirror and blew gently. Tatters of smoke floated into the surface of the water. Starscream saw mist begin to rise among the trees and shimmer in the moonlight. The goblin King watched the mist gathering force for a moment, lapping into hollows and wafting up toward the moon. Then he beckoned the spidery goblins. They moved forward on their long limbs and walked straight into the wall of water. In another second they were gliding down the foggy forest path.

Starscream stared at the bizarre creatures moving beneath the moonlight. One applied his paintbrush to the dead tree at the head of the path. A moment later, the tree had vanished completely. The other dipped his paintbrush into his bucket and began swiping it in the air. A thick bush began to appear in the middle of the path. They next erased a large rock, only to paint it in again a dozen feet away. Within a couple of minutes, the path was unrecognizable. Paintbrushes at the ready, the creatures glided rapidly off in the direction of the arguing search party.

Megatron turned away, and the mirror went dark. The rest of the waiting goblins resumed preparations, but Starscream remained where he was, glaring at the lapping water. He was remembering the night when he and Skywarp had met the goblins at their bonfire. Gates had moved, and roads had shifted. Now he realized with a shudder that he and Skywarp hadn't been alone. These lofty monsters must have glided right beside them, changing the landmarks as they approached.

He jumped when Megatron stopped beside him. The goblin King noticed his accusatory expression and nodded in understanding.

“You're right,” he said calmly, as if Starscream had spoken out loud. “They led you straight to where we were waiting.” And then, with a sharp-toothed grin, “You only _thought_ you were lost.”

“If there is one good thing about our impending marriage,” Starscream hissed levelly, “it is that I will have the rest of my life to find suitable ways to repay you every courtesy you've given me this last week.”

One of Megatron's oversized eyebrows lifted, and then he turned away as the hairy black monster with the long arms returned. It reached up and laid the King's riding cloak around his twisted shoulders, its furry black fingers then working carefully to free his silvery hair from the cloak's confining weight as he pulled it about himself.

“No wonder you're such a poor loser,” Starscream commented, sneering at the scene. “Has anyone ever said no to you in your entire life?”

“Since my mother died, you're the first,” Megatron commented easily as he fastened the catch. “Now, come with me, Star. I'm going to check on a few things I might need.”

A few minutes later, Starscream found himself sitting on a tall stool in a stone room that looked like a cross between a library and a laboratory. Books and manuscripts filled an entire wall of bookshelves, another wall was covered with cabinets full of shelves and drawers, a writing desk occupied the space by the door, and he sat beside a high, broad worktable with star charts and diagrams fastened to the wall above it. Glass bottles, pottery jars, and metal boxes ranged across the cabinet shelves, and bunches of herbs hung from a rack. Utensils and bowls of various sizes were stacked neatly at the back of the worktable, and a mortar and pestle stood by his hand. It put him in mind of his father's study where he had learned to chart the stars and identify plants as a child.

He watched the pallid goblin as he prowled the room, lost in thought. Megatron pulled out a deep drawer and rummaged through it, one finger holding a place in a small leather-bound book that he had plucked from the shelves.

“So, this is where your magic comes from,” Starscream observed, looking about haughtily.

Megatron was amused. “My magic comes from me,” he corrected. “This is where I keep my tools.” He found the object he had been after, checked the book again, and dropped the object into a pocket of his cloak.

As the goblin King browsed his magical tools, Starscream mulled over the events of the day. He was in the last place he wanted to be, and he had promised to marry a monster. Then again, had he stayed, he may well have been forced to marry a different sort of monster. Starscream shuddered at the memory of Steelrim Bryht’s hands on him and felt a lump rise in his throat when he thought of what the man might have done to Skywarp in capturing and hiding him away.

“I thought I only had to worry about you,” he said bitterly to Megatron’s back.

The goblin King turned, and for once, he didn’t laugh. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he said. “I do wish you’d stop. It would make both our lives much easier.”

The boy shrugged and turned away. Megatron studied him with a frown.

“So, my cousin decided that he was going to marry you, did he?” he asked. “And I take it you were not amenable to his proposal?”

“He’s a disgusting boor,” Starscream sneered, picking at a loose thread on his skirt.

“Is that what you said to him that made him decide to strike you?”

Starscream looked up sharply to find the goblin King watching him with what he could only describe as a murderous expression. He said nothing, and Megatron eventually let out a sigh before stepping closer to him with a pot of pink cream in one hand. Starscream remembered Skywarp’s account of how the goblin King had healed his wounds in the forest the other night.

“Let me see,” Megatron said, taking Starscream’s face carefully in the other hand. He set the pot of cream on the table next to the boy and scooped some out to massage gently into the bruise on his face. The pain that Starscream had been too distracted to realize he was feeling for the last couple of hours faded away.

“Don’t you think it’s funny that he calls himself your guardian?” Megatron asked as he finished. “Your guardian, your protector.” He paused for a second, eyes narrowing. “I think it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

As he moved to pull down another book and gathered more things from drawers and cupboards, Starscream began to grow sleepy. He fell into a doze. Then he shook himself and jumped down from the stool.

“You're enchanting me, aren't you!” he exclaimed. Megatron was studying the book again. He didn't look up.

“But I want to come, too,” Starscream said stubbornly.

The goblin poured the contents of his pocket out onto the worktable and checked through them as if he hadn't heard.

“After all, I came here by myself,” the boy pointed out.

Megatron swept the assembled items back into his pocket, satisfied.

“I... I promise to come back,” Starscream added hesitantly, the words wrenching in his chest.

Megatron glanced up then, a shrewd look in his eyes. “My lovely, fierce bride,” he said with a wry smile. “I finally have you underground with me—after quite a battle, too. And you want me to let you out again?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Oh, you bravely hurled yourself to the monsters when you thought it was the only way to save your brother and get your revenge. But”—he walked over and bent down to look into the boy's eyes—“I think that if you knew he was safe, and that no one was going to hurt either of you anymore, you'd forget all about your promise to your poor goblin husband. And you'd bolt if you had even half a chance.”

Starscream met his steady gaze. He was absolutely right, of course, but it didn't change the fact that this was his revenge to take; not Megatron's. The King stood in thought for a moment, studying his determined expression.

“You don't mind if I reinforce your pledge with a little magic,” he suggested, and Starscream hesitated a moment before shaking his head. Out and about under magical enchantment was still better than nothing.

“But if I take you with me,” Megatron warned, “I want you to promise only to watch. I don't want you to talk to Bryht.”

“Why not?” Starscream demanded. He had quite a few choice things he wanted to say to Steelrim Bryht.

“Because I haven't formed a very favorable impression of my cousin. If you and he argue, I'm liable to do something I'll regret.”

“I'd love to see that.”

“No,” Megatron chuckled. “I'm not sure you would.”

He laid the boy's right hand palm up on the worktable and covered it with his left hand. As he murmured quietly, Starscream had the discomfiting impression that the two hands had grown together into one. When Megatron lifted his hand and turned away, Starscream snatched his up quickly and probed at the palm. It felt completely normal. Megatron watched him, grinning.

“Walk to the door,” he ordered.

“Why?” Starscream wanted to know.

Megatron rolled his eyes. “Fine. I'll walk to the door.”

As he came within a few feet of his goal, Starscream felt his hand jerk suddenly toward the other man. He tried to restrain it, but as Megatron turned and continued backing away, he was pulled forward. It felt as if a rope stretched from the goblin's hand through Starscream's palm and into his arm. Megatron rumbled a low chuckle at his infuriated expression.

“The Leashing Spell gives you about ten feet,” he said. “And I'm bigger than you are, so don't try dragging me around. Time to go.” He grew serious. “They'll be waiting by now.”

* * *

The band of goblins by the water wall had been joined by two grooms holding five horses. The horses were saddled and bridled, but no one made any move to mount. Megatron walked to the mirror and called up an image of the Hall through the trees. The huge feathered apes promptly swung into the water. Starscream grimaced a bit at the sight of them moving down the forest path a second later.

“They're Hulk and Bulk,” Megatron told him, nodding after them. “Hulk's the dark one. My mother named them.”

Thundercracker jumped through the water barrier next. Megatron's fanged lieutenant took a pair of horses from the groom and stepped through after. Starscream realized, seeing him in his black cloak, that this was Barricade, the other man from the bonfire. The other groom led his three charges snorting into the water. Megatron gave a few orders to the bystanders in the cave, then pulled a rather dubious Starscream into the picture with him.

He felt as if a large, cool bubble popped against his face. The next second, he stumbled on the uneven rocks of the same path he and Thundercracker had taken from his bedroom that evening. The full moon shone through the branches, and Starscream felt his heart lift at the sight of the stars through a break in the trees. He dragged his feet, looking up at them longingly.

The band of goblins gathered under the trees behind the Hall, and the groom led the horses away through the woods. The rest walked, padded, or swung onto the quiet terrace. Starscream smiled nastily at the thought of what Mrs. Bigelow would say if she saw them.

Megatron stepped up to the study window and stared into the lighted room without moving a muscle. Through it, Starscream could see his guardian and Dr. Ratchet deep in intense discussion. The next second, both men were asleep. Dr. Ratchet's head rolled against the back of his chair, and Steelrim Bryht flopped forward, chin on chest. Megatron turned away and took his captive's hand, a pleased smile on his pallid face.

“You see, Star,” he remarked quietly, “how easy it is with everyone but you. You've been such trouble, you make me doubt my own abilities. Half the time, I suspect you of enchanting me.”

The statement pulled another smile from Starscream as he remembered his delight in besting the goblin King the previous evening.

Megatron beckoned to Thundercracker, and the three of them moved toward the kitchen. As they passed a patch of moonlight, Starscream looked up again, wondering how he would possibly bear to spend the rest of his life underground.

They approached the kitchen window, and Megatron gestured. “Thundercracker,” he said in a low voice, “you handle this one.”

The big cat bounded to the window and froze, looking in. Megatron and Starscream walked up just in time to see Mrs. Bigelow slump forward, twitching slightly, her cheek on the kitchen table.

“That's very good,” said Megatron appreciatively as the cat looked up. “You won't get that twitching, though, if you stay with them just another couple of seconds.”

The group filed into the entrance hall, the two large feathered apes turning sideways and hunching to fit through the doorway. The sight of such bizarre creatures in his own house made Starscream's lip curl. They entered the study to find the men snoring gently as they dreamed in their chairs. Bulk, the light-colored ape, took his station right by Steelrim Bryht. Soundwave stood on the other side of the chair, blocking access to the window.

The King reminded everyone of their duties in the goblin language. Thundercracker and Hulk went off down the hall. “—And I want you to stand here, Star,” added Megatron, pointing. “Don't move too far from the hearth. That way, no matter where I step, I won't pull you down or drag you over a table.”

Starscream rubbed his palm with a pout as he spoke, remembering his freedom was only an illusion.

Megatron went over to Steelrim Bryht and gave him a stinging slap across the face with his six-fingered hand. “Wake up, cousin,” he growled.

Starscream remembered his own nightmare as Steelrim Bryht gasped to consciousness, and hoped that the wretched man had been having similarly unpleasant visions in his magical slumber. He blinked about groggily, putting a hand up to adjust his wig. As he focused on Megatron, the color drained from his handsome face and left it an ugly gray.

“It's always nice to meet close relatives,” observed Megatron pleasantly.

His odd eyes glinted, and the candlelight in the room emphasized the muddy color of his lips and fingernails. It glinted too off his tusks and the sharp, silvery teeth behind his curled lips. Steelrim Bryht gasped for breath and began to look as if he had been ill for several days. Turning his head slowly, he located the large feathered ape right beside his chair. Bulk gazed dolefully at him with his patient yellow eyes. Steelrim gave a muffled groan. His dull gaze wandered around the room to Barricade, and he let out a shriek.

Starscream snorted with vindictive amusement at his guardian's cowardice. Except for those cat eyes and fangs, Barricade didn't look so bad for a goblin. He turned back to find Steelrim Bryht staring at him now. The man began to move his lips, but no words came out.

“Don't you dare speak to him,” Megatron warned. “He's not even related to you.” The goblin King crossed his arms, smiling down at Steelrim. “No, you want to talk to me, your own flesh and blood,” he said encouragingly. “You want to tell me where little Warp is tonight. Star came and told us that you’ve been playing games with the both of them.’” In spite of his shock, Steelrim Bryht was listening closely, his lips working and his eyes fixed on Megatron's face. Starscream decided that he must have gotten over his disbelief in goblins very quickly.

“Do you know where Warp is?” Megatron asked. Steelrim Bryht shook his head. The goblin's expression didn't change, but an angry gleam lit his eyes. “Then it's a good thing I do.”

Hulk came sidling through the doorway, Skywarp in his arms. He laid the boy carefully down on the couch across from his guardian as Starscream hurried over, mouth set in a grim line of fury. Thundercracker padded in and sat down on the floor by the couch, round golden eyes fixed curiously on the quivering, gray-faced man.

“How's it going, kiddo?” asked Megatron, kneeling next to Starscream. Skywarp grinned at him drowsily. “Warp, someone's been using human magic on you—by which I mean a sleeping potion.” He ran his fingertips over the boy's temples and down his neck, then checked his wrists and ankles.

“Are you going to put any salve on me?” asked Skywarp in groggy anticipation. Megatron smiled at him.

“No, someone's been very considerate,” he replied. “No one would ever know you'd been tied up.” He reached down a hand and helped Starscream to his feet. “I hope you don't mind, Warp, but your brother can't stay here. He's”—he paused, then chuckled—“guarding the fireplace.” Starscream shot him a venomous look.

“Now,” the King said meditatively, drawing Starscream back to the hearth and walking past him to the gray-faced Steelrim, “this does raise a question. You're Warp's guardian, not I, but I'm the one who's having to guard him tonight. Do you have any idea what Warp was doing tied up in your basement?” Steelrim Bryht stared at the carpet and shook his head.

The King let out an exasperated sigh and reached into his pocket. Barricade stepped to his side, grinning broadly. Megatron handed him a set of tongs, which he clicked a couple of times in anticipation. The King produced a rod of red sealing wax and a small bronze seal. Bulk shuffled a few feet sideways and clamped his gigantic hands over Steelrim’s arms. When the man opened his mouth to yell, Barricade bent down and seized his tongue with the tongs. He grinned in delight at the indistinct yells and cries coming from the frantic man, but Megatron, on the other side of Steelrim’s chair, frowned in concentration. His lips moved silently as he held the rod of sealing wax above Steelrim’s open mouth. It softened and dripped without the aid of a flame, and a large red blob landed on the extended tongue. Megatron quickly stamped the seal into the blob of melted wax and studied the impression with satisfaction. He turned away, putting the wax and seal back into his pocket, as Barricade reluctantly released his grip on the tongue. At a nod, Bulk shuffled back a step. Steelrim Bryht bent forward in his chair, choking and spluttering.

“Now,” Megatron said, “I'll ask you again. Do you have any idea what Warp was doing tied up in your basement?”

“Of course I do!” snarled Starscream's guardian. “I tied the little changeling up myself.”

Then he let out a terrified squeak and clamped his hands over his mouth. The goblins howled in amusement at his dismay, and Megatron grinned at Starscream's surprised face.

“It's the Stamp of Truth,” he explained. “It makes the receiver answer the complete truth to every question.” He turned back to Steelrim Bryht. “And why did you tie Warp up in the basement, cousin?”

The man struggled for a second, his hands over his mouth. Then he dropped them, breathing heavily. “Master Quaesit had lied so well that the doctor wouldn't take him away. I was determined to make him tell the truth about his goblin obsession. If Master Quaesit thought his precious Warp was stolen, I knew he'd admit everything, and his brother, doped and tied up, wouldn't be able to find him and tell him otherwise.”

“It's so refreshing,” Megatron remarked to Starscream. “It really brings a goblin quality to human speech, don't you agree?”

A strangled sound caused him to turn. Steelrim Bryht glared up at him, pale eyes frantic, a dribble of blood running from the corner of his mouth.

“You're a smart man, cousin,” Megatron cautioned, “so I'll explain something to you. The Stamp of Truth is only ceremonially applied to the tongue. It works on the whole person. You can bite your tongue out and cut your hands off, and you'll still scribble out the truth with a quill pen clutched between your toes. I'm afraid that you'll have to adjust to life as an honest man. So tell me, honest man, why did you want the doctor to take Star away? I thought you told him you wanted to marry him.”

“Yes, but he didn’t want to marry me!” hissed Starscream’s guardian. “I needed some kind of leverage on him. I thought if he was locked in an asylum, he might feel desperate enough to agree to a marriage to get out. He doesn’t have any business here. He or his brother. This has been Bryht land for eight hundred years. I can show you the records.”

“I know whose land it was before that,” declared the goblin. “And I can show you records, too. So you didn’t like that they were taking your land. But then, what, you fancied yourself in love with Starscream once you’d met him?”

“Not at all,” growled Steelrim Bryht, shifting from side to side as he tried to fight the spell. “I can’t stand changelings. They’re disgusting freaks of nature. They belong in the same sorts of storybooks you sprang from. But if he married another man, then that man and his children would inherit Hallow Hill. I became their guardian to stop another man moving into the Hall with them and throwing me out. Besides, being their guardian gave me certain opportunities.” He glared at Starscream rather desperately.

“You had plans from the beginning, then?” asked Megatron, frowning.

“Of course I did,” snapped the gray-faced man. “Ideas, mainly. I thought about poison, but I couldn’ make up my mind.”

“And why’s that?” asked the goblin, fangs bared.

“I have a horror of hanging,” said Steelrim Bryht with a shudder.

“What compassion!” hooted Megatron. “You’re always thinking of others. So what changed your plans to marriage?”

“It was the first night he dined here,” said Steelrim reluctantly. “He was so much more beautiful than I’d expected, and I thought that I could ignore a lot for a chance to have such a pretty face in my bed. And then he started showing such nervous strain. Telling tales or seeing things, I didn’t know, but I did all I could to encourage it. I even persuaded some village boys to play a trick, pretending to be goblins. He tried to run off the very next day. I knew he wouldn’t take his brother’s disappearance without a fight. I had the doctor right here to listen to his arguments when the search party brought him back from the woods. Whether you or the asylum, I knew he would be desperate enough to escape one or the other to marry me instead. But he was stubborn. So I decided to rape him.”

Megatron made a noise like a snarl, and Starscream felt decidedly ill. His one consolation was that Skywarp, who was watching the conversation from the couch with his fingers clenched in Thundercracker’s soft, thick fur, didn’t know enough to understand what their guardian was saying.

“And how did that factor into your plans, cousin?” the goblin King demanded.

Steelrim Bryht rocked back and forth furiously and ground his teeth. “No one would believe the accusations of a boy known to be either a lunatic or a compulsive liar, and I hoped it would be the final straw to hold over him. He would be mine, his body and soul claimed by me. He would have to marry me or risk shame. And hopefully, if I did it enough, I could get him pregnant. Then, I would have a legitimate heir, and he would die giving it to me like his bloody mother and grandmother before him. As for the younger one, I had ten years to deal with him. Anything can happen in ten years.”

Starscream let out a shriek of rage.

“Yes,” agreed Megatron darkly. “I think we’ve had all the truth out of you that we can stand. You’ve made it quite clear what kind of guardian you are. The only thing now is to decide what to do about it. Starscream has already made his decision. He came down to my kingdom tonight and agreed to marry me in exchange for his brother’s safety and your imminent downfall.”

“Oh, Star, really?” asked Skywarp excitedly, sitting up. “What was it like? Was it horrible and dark? Was it very beautiful?”

“I don't know, Warp,” Star replied, trying to harness his scattered thoughts. “It was... very beautiful, yes. I think,” he added, eyes narrowing, “that some parts were horrible, too.”

“You won't leave me behind, will you?” begged Skywarp. “Please take me with you. I don't want to stay here with him,” he insisted, pointing at his guardian.

Megatron gave Starscream a shrewd, assessing glance. “I'd be happy to steal you, Warp,” he said sorrowfully, “but I'm afraid your brother wants you to stay behind. He thinks humans make much better companions for a young child than we monsters do. After all, Warp, your own race is bound to love you best.” He met Starscream's astonished stare with a sober expression.

“How could you!” cried Skywarp as Starscream opened his mouth to protest. “I don't think humans are nice at all, and goblins are a lot more fun.”

“But, Warp,” said Starscream placatingly. “What about... about your great-aunts?” He tried to think of other things that tied his lonely little brother to the world he himself would have to leave. “And what about Hallow Hill?”

“I don't want Hallow Hill without you,” said Skywarp appealingly. “Who would go on rambles with me? And I don't want to live with the aunts. They snapped at me, and they won't let me have a pet. You let Thundercracker have a pet,” he told Megatron. “Would you let me have one, too?”

The goblin King chuckled and gave Starscream a pitying look. “Have a pet?” he said winningly. “Why, Warp, you'd _be_ a pet! You'd go about the kingdom playing with the goblin children, and the old ones would weave ribbons into your hair, which is especially soft and beautiful by our standards.” Skywarp stroked his short, blond hair wonderingly. “And the dwarves would make jewelry just for you, rings and bracelets and the most splendid necklaces. They're always disappointed, the dwarves, that the King's Wife can't wear necklaces.”

“Do come, Warp,” piped Thundercracker, putting his paws up on the couch. “I'll show you all the magic I know.”

“That's fine as far as it goes,” interrupted Starscream sternly, “but you'll have to marry one of those goblins someday, Warp. You're just saving them the trouble of stealing you.” And he glared indignantly at the arrogant goblin King.

“Your brother is right,” said Megatron to Skywarp. “I'll bring you into my kingdom under two conditions. First, you do have to marry a goblin when you're old enough. But you can marry any goblin you like; I'll leave you the choice. And second, if you come, no changing your mind later. You won't be allowed to leave.”

“I don't mind marrying a goblin,” promised Skywarp with all the blithe disregard of a child for the future.

“You know perfectly well Warp's not old enough to understand what he's losing,” Starscream cried angrily. “How dare you try to lure him underground after I made my promise to you! You know I intended for him to stay up here and... and be a human!”

Skywarp started to argue, but Megatron stopped him with a gesture. He came to Starscream's side and took his hands soothingly. “By all means,” he agreed in a soft voice, “we can leave little Warp behind. But in whose care are you willing to leave him?”

Starscream ran quickly through the available choices. His great-aunts? No, they had already failed him. Besides, after this horrible experience, Starscream wondered whether they would even take Skywarp back in. Father's nephew had already declined. If pressured, Starscream suspected that he would do it, but he certainly wouldn't love his cousin.

“Believe me, I do not envy you this choice, and I am sorry that you have to make it. But surely you don't think,” said Megatron, “that your guardian is particularly unusual? A young human androgyne alone, with land, is going to be quite a target. Or are you proposing that I sally forth every few years to rescue him from whatever new menace he encounters?”

Starscream looked up. The goblin's pallid face was calm and cruel. He knew that he had left no choice. He must have realized right away that he could rescue Skywarp and still get to keep the boy. Starscream jerked his hands free. As Megatron let him go, he saw the brown wound on the goblin's thumb. That had probably been the only moment of his entire life when he would get the better of the King.

“Don't you realize what you mean to Warp?” added Megatron more kindly. “If you love him enough to give up your world for him, don't you think he would want to do the same for you? He wants to be with you, and it won't be as hard for him, I think. He'll have a happy life with us. We'll appreciate him.”

Starscream nodded reluctantly and looked away. His eyes met his guardian's, and he felt a rush of anger. He forgot his promise not to speak to the man. “This is your fault!” he cried, helpless and furious. His guardian glared back at him, not looking the least contrite.

“Indeed it is, Star,” Megatron agreed. “It's time to plan your revenge. Goblins just adore revenge.” He grinned. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Starscream set his jaw as he thought of what his guardian had done. He had made the boy promise to lose his freedom and marry a monster. He had intended even worse toward him to get his hands on the land he thought was rightfully his. Hallow Hill belonged to Starscream, not Steelrim Bryht, but he would never live here now. He'd never even see it again. But it was his, and no one else's, and he knew what would break his cousin more than anything else.

“Death would be too merciful for him, but I don't want him living here,” he said firmly. “I want him off my land.”

“Oh, good,” Megatron said with relish. “I thought of that one, too.” He walked over to Steelrim Bryht with a broad smile. “It seems Starscream doesn't want you on his land,” he announced cheerfully. “And I'm bound to say, cousin, that I don't want you here, either.”

The wretched man looked up at him in alarm. “I didn't do anything!” he insisted. “I barely even touched him, and his brother's fine.”

“It's true that you didn't kill or imprison him,” agreed Megatron, “although I don't think you deserve much credit for that since you were certainly trying to do that and more. But no, we'll set that aside. Starcream's revenge is for what you actually did do.

“Starscream isn't at all like his brother. He has no desire to be a goblin's pet. He tried everything he could think of to stay out of my reach, and he did quite a remarkable job. He went to you for protection, for the help that you had promised to provide, but not only did you not help him, you actually drove him to me by doing worse than any goblin ever has. Starscream is the first King's Bride I know of who had to promise away his own freedom in exchange for the goblins' help. Thanks to you, he'll be lost to his own race and locked away from this land that he loves. He'll never see the sun or stars. He'll never be outside again. He'll have to have a child now, and it'll be a goblin; he'll cry for days after the first sight of his son. And he'll be married to a creature he finds so frightful that I have to leash him to me with magic to keep him from running away even now.”

A profound silence fell over the study. Starscream stared down at the carpet, so overcome with humiliation, grief and anger that he didn't understand how it could fail to show. There should be a physical injury to cause such pain, some wound over his heart, gushing blood. The goblin King studied him grimly. Then he turned toward Steelrim with a philosophical shrug.

“It's not my problem,” he said. “I have to protect my people. Starscream's suffering is the price paid for the goblin race to continue. But,” he added sternly, “you were supposed to protect him. You chose to become his guardian, and that makes his suffering _your_ problem.

“I don't think you'll spend much time on Starscream's land, anyway. The Stamp of Truth is a permanent charm. The doctor, here, will wake up never even knowing he was asleep. He'll ask you why you look so upset, and you'll tell him all about it. It's going to be very amusing, your description of us all.”

Steelrim's anxious eyes widened as he realized what this would mean. Starscream looked at the sleeping Dr. Ratchet. He was far too well educated ever to believe in goblins, especially goblins right in the room with him and somehow escaping his notice. Starscream imagined the doctor's shrewd look as his guardian related the incredible tale. Steelrim Bryht would soon be in the asylum after all.

“But when Starscream ordered you off his property,” concluded Megatron, “I don't think that he wanted to wait, so from this moment forward, you are forbidden to set foot on his land.”

Steelrim Bryht stared at him, completely baffled. “I'll do my best,” he promised shakily. “I give you my word.”

“Oh, I think you'll surprise yourself,” the goblin King murmured absently. “Bulk?”

The great ape seized Steelrim by the head and arm. Barricade came up and caught the other arm, stepping down firmly on Steelrim's feet. Megatron reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny jar. Kneeling, he held it close to the floor, upside down. He removed the stopper but nothing dripped out. Then he positioned the bottle below Steelrim's arm and turned it quickly upright. A drop splashed upward onto the man's arm.

Before Starscream's astonished eyes, the terrified Steelrim began to tilt. As Barricade stepped back, Steelrim's feet slipped out from under his chair and flipped up over his head. In a few seconds, he was entirely upside down, balancing in the air, screaming and twisting. Bulk still held the other arm. He extended his own feathery arm as far as he could, pushing the man higher and higher into the air. Then he let go. Steelrim whizzed through the air like a great bat and flopped grotesquely onto the ceiling.

Starscream clutched the fireplace in an attack of dizziness, and let out a strangled giggle as his former guardian crawled about on the ceiling like a wasp. The man pushed himself upright, feet stuck on the plaster and head pointing straight down. He stood swaying, goggling down at them, his handsome face frantic with terror. His wig didn’t even fall off. The giggle turned to a bark of laughter, and Starscream clapped a hand to his mouth, but it kept pouring out of him. Sharp screams of mirth were tearing from his throat, and he couldn’t tear his eyes from the unnatural sight of his former guardian, who looked like some huge cockroach.

Megatron crossed quickly to Starscream and put an arm around the hysterical boy.

“Not… He can’t… Not a foot on my land!” Starscream gasped, pointing up at Steelrim Bryht with a shaking hand. He could feel tears running down his face. “He’ll be over and I’ll be under and… And neither of us are allowed to set a foot on my land again!”

The goblin King watched him with a kind expression, and then gathered him close into his strong arms. Starscream allowed it only because he needed somewhere to bury his face so that he could no longer see or be seen, and Megatron’s broad chest was a perfect solution.

“As he said, you’re not allowed to set foot on his land,” Megatron reminded Steelrim evenly. “Well, actually, any land. And I don’t imagine you’ll be laying your hands on any other desperate young men or women, either. Now, I understand that the doctor here is fascinated by preternatural forms of insanity. Starscream tells me he believes the mind can perform impossible feats when it gives way to madness. Things he’s determined to find a scientific explanation for.” He paused, watching as Steelrim Bryht scrabbled above him. “You should exceed his wildest expectations.”

The man gibbered down at them, clawing at the walls, and then, making a rush across the ceiling, he tangled himself in the chandelier. Starscream heard the clatter, but didn’t look up from the floor as Megatron shepherded him from the room. The quiet goblins filed out of the house, Steelrim Bryht’s screams echoing down the hall behind them.


	10. Chapter Nine

The goblins left by the front door. Starscream stumbled, exhausted and numb now that his hysteria had calmed, down the wide steps, Megatron's protective arm holding him upright. He could still hear his guardian's screams behind him. The chilly night brought some energy back to his worn frame as they crunched along a gravel walk. They were filing down one of the tree-lined edges of the Hallow Hill green, leaving the hall and forest behind.

Starscream glanced up at his strange companion's implacable face. The goblin King knew exactly how miserable he was at the thought of the life they had planned for him. He even knew how miserable Starscream was going to be about things that he hadn't thought of yet. The boy shivered, thinking of a hideous goblin baby. He wondered if Sunwave had cried for days at his first sight of the one now leading him to his own fate.

The goblin King knew all this, and he could just shrug it off, completely pitiless, but he could exact an appalling price for his bride's misery from a human who he thought should have tried to prevent it. Starscream glanced over his shoulder, realizing that he couldn't hear his guardian's screams anymore, but he had a swift image of the man flopping about on the ceiling, and he shivered again. Megatron paused in their walk, frowning, to pull his cloak around the boy's slight shoulders.

But then, Starscream considered, his father would say to be fair. It was true that the goblin King had been trying to capture him, but it was also true that he hadn't succeeded. Starscream had walked in unannounced and promised to be the creature's wife, and he had set the condition himself. Megatron had immediately marshaled his forces to meet the terms of the agreement. He had taken the boy along to watch him accomplish his part, and Starscream had promised to go back when it was done. He'd even allowed Starscream to pick the revenge himself, and what a revenge his simple words had become in the hands of a magical monster. And at least, it seemed from some small things Megatron had said thus far, that Sunwave had survived to raise his sole child. Starscream wasn’t sure if that was encouraging or not.

They came to the end of the gravel walk. On the field beyond the green, the goblin groom waited with their horses. Starscream stepped out of the shadow of the trees into the bright moonlight. As he tilted his head to look at the full moon, he felt the grief of his loss sweep through him all at once. The goblin King had said he would never be outside after their marriage. Starscream didn't think he could endure it.

Megatron was issuing orders. Thundercracker raced back toward the house, and Hulk and Bulk climbed onto two big draft horses and trotted off. Skywarp wandered over and took his brother's hand. Starscream looked down at the younger boy. His thin cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were bright with excitement. With Skywarp's love of drama and of animals, he would enjoy every bit of goblin life. It was all so exaggerated, from the bright colors and rich decorations to the deformities of the creatures themselves. At last, life would hold all the variety Skywarp wanted.

After several minutes, Thundercracker came back at a run. “They both woke up well,” he reported to the King. “The man woke up in the middle of a sentence, and he looked around for a minute before he could find Bryht on the ceiling. Then I had to go wake up the woman. The bell was already ringing to call her to the study, so I don't think she'll notice that her tea was cold.”

They prepared to ride home. Starscream noted that it was all happening pretty much as it would have a few days ago, and he wondered drearily if the extra time had been worthwhile. Barricade boosted Skywarp up and then swung up behind him. Thundercracker sprang on behind Barricade and wrapped his paws around the burly goblin's waist.

“Listen to me, you occasional cat,” growled Barricade, “there’d better be no claws this time, or you will walk home! I don’t care if you fall off—I won’t be a pincushion.”

“Ready?” asked Megatron, and he boosted Starscream up onto his gray hunter. For a few seconds, the boy was alone on the horse. He wanted to seize the reins and dash away, but he realized that the magical bond that tied him to the King would pull him from the horse's back. By the time he thought of this, the older man had already mounted behind him.

“Really, Star, my own horse!” said the goblin reprovingly, just as if the boy had been speaking out loud. “I don't think he'd have done it, but I'm glad you couldn't try.” He glanced down at Starscream's face, raised in silent appeal to the moon. The boy didn't seem to notice him at all. Starscream couldn't see anything but the moon and the stars near it, calling him across the vast gulf of darkness. They seemed to know his name, he thought sadly. If only he could remember theirs.

Megatron took one sharp look at the determined face of his bride and urged his horse into a gallop. The horses raced through the silvery fields, running flat out. They cleared fences and crashed through bushes, throwing up a cloud of dust and small rocks in their wake. Skywarp, clinging to Barricade, thought they were going to die, and Thundercracker forgot all about the warning not to use his claws. But Starscream knew nothing of the hair-raising ride. He saw nothing but the moon and stars. They seemed so close. Surely they could help him. He could almost hear words like the chimes of bells as they told him what he needed to do. He could see the moonbeams reaching down to him like silver hands, catching at the fleeing horse. Megatron leaned down low, pulling the boy with him, and called for more speed.

Starscream felt them shift as if the horse had stumbled. He took his eyes off the pursuing moon and glanced ahead. They were on a level field, but the horse's racing feet were sinking into it as if it were quicksand. He was not slowing his gallop; if anything, he was running faster, his legs invisible below the earth. In another few seconds, Starscream's feet were gone, too, and just as if the field were a mist or sea, only the horse's head plowed along above it. Waving grass stems and dirt clods raced by the edges of Megatron's black cloak. Now the horse's head was gone, and the ground was rising up around them, lapping at Starscream without waves until it reached his chest and then his neck. He screamed, the goblin's arms clamped tightly around him as he threw back his head for one last glimpse of the moon.

Total darkness surrounded them. Starscream closed his eyes and hid his face in the goblin King's chest, preferring to deal with a blindness that he caused and understood. After a few more seconds, the horse slowed down. Soon he was cantering and then walking, blowing from his run. Starscream could feel the goblin relax, too, straightening up and loosening his hold on the boy. Cautiously, Starscream opened his eyes. Polished rock walls and hanging lamps met his frightened glare. He was back underground.

They came to an iron door just like the one he had come through with Thundercracker, though this one opened for the King without any questions. Beyond it was a wide room lined with horse stalls. Barricade swung down from the saddle, cursing in goblin at Thundercracker, who had shredded his waistcoat. Skywarp could hardly stand up, so frightened had he been by the trip underground, but he was already asking questions. Megatron lifted Starscream to the ground, and their steaming, lathered horses were led away.

They emerged into a palace hallway. On one side was a line of doors; on the other, tall windows without glass displayed a spectacular view. They were high above a wide, bowl-shaped valley far larger than the one through which Starscream had originally come, its space defined in the darkness by thousands of twinkling lights. Past the windowsill, he could see what must be the back of the palace, forming a straight wall down for several hundred feet. A large town nestled at the bottom of the palace, and across the valley, more towns were defined by other gatherings of lights. Between them were open areas crossed by lighted roads or canals.

Skywarp and Thundercracker leaned out a window farther than was safe, asking and answering in a chatter that wearied everyone but themselves. Megatron walked over to the unlikely pair.

“Thundercracker,” he said, “take Warp to get something to eat. I don't think he's been fed at all today.” Starscream glared ever harder at his back for having thought of this before he could. “The cooks will be at the ceremony, so you'll need to find something on your own, and then you can bring Warp back up to the pages' floor to pick an apartment. There should be some with windows free, and he'd better have one with a really good writing area like yours.”

Starscream found this statement interesting, but Skywarp thought it was hilarious. “You can write?” he asked the big cat incredulously. “How do you hold a pen?”

“Not with his paws, although he's tried,” answered Megatron with an exasperated sigh. “Thundercracker, you've been a cat long enough for now. Change back, and this time stay changed for at least one full day.”

Thundercracker's ears, head, and fluffy tail went down in total dejection. “Change back now?” he yowled pitifully. “But they'll laugh at me.”

“Or perhaps your King didn't just give you an order,” the goblin remarked.

There was a heartfelt sigh, and then a shimmer, and a tall boy in a black tunic and breeches stood where the cat had crouched. Starscream and Skywarp stared. If they had expected anything, they had expected a goblin or a human, but Thundercracker was neither one. His neat black eyebrows curved upward where a human's curved down, and his small ears pointed at the tips. His thick black hair curled in luxurious ringlets, his large black eyes were shaded by long, dark lashes, and his pale skin had a fine, silvery texture. Thundercracker was an extraordinarily handsome youth about thirteen years old. Except for the fact that his striking features wore an unusually glum expression, he could have been an angel in a painting by an Italian master.

“You see, they didn't laugh,” observed the goblin King. “Now, go, and if you want to show Warp your new trick with the colored flames, do it somewhere away from low ceilings so you don't leave a scorch mark.” The two turned and went off together, a little bashful at first, but Starscream noticed that before they reached the end of the hallway, they were again deep in conversation.

“I never saw such a beautiful boy,” he murmured, too amazed to even be jealous.

“Don't ever let Thundercracker hear you say that,” Megatron said. “He'd never forgive you. He's a throwback, of course, almost pure elf, and in one of our finest high families, too, a goblin-goblin marriage. The parents were devastated. It hasn't been easy for him, as you might well imagine. He tends to avoid the other children, but I've kept him close by, and he's proved exceptional at magic. He's very sensitive about his—well, I suppose you'd balk at the word  _ abnormality _ —his difference, and since I taught him how to change shapes, he's been a cat as much as possible.” He chuckled. “He seems to feel that if he's a cat, people will forget that he's not much of a goblin.”

Starscream pondered this odd speech as they started off again down corridors and stairs. His head was buzzing with bizarre sights and strange ideas, and he was too tired to form coherent thoughts anymore. It seemed to him that they walked for a long time without speaking, always going down. The windows vanished, and the halls became rougher, more like tunnels than hallways. Eventually Megatron ushered him into a small cavelike room. It was lit by a lamp hanging high in the rounded ceiling. A table-high ledge stretched across one end, and before it protruded a chair-shaped hunk of stone, the simplest of furnishings left behind when the room was hollowed out.

Starscream found the room too dim for his human eyes and stopped right inside the door to adjust. Megatron crossed to an inner door and talked in goblin to someone beyond. Starscream sat down on the stone seat and studied the ledge in front of him. Four golden circles lay there, along with an oddly fashioned golden drinking goblet that held some sort of dark liquid. He suddenly felt very nervous.

Megatron put a shallow bowl of water and a towel in front of him. Then he laid his hands on the door they had come through and spoke aloud. It shuddered and clanked, and Starscream jumped.

“It's all right,” the King remarked, seeing the boy's startled face, and a hint of his normal amusement glinted in his serious eyes. “It's purely ritual. I've just locked the door with magic. It was important in the old days when a King's Bride might have hundreds of hysterical and highly magical kin storming the doors to rescue him before he could be made the King's Wife. That's a problem we're not likely to face at this ceremony.”

He took a small bag from his pocket and threw a pinch of powder into the bowl. Taking Starscream's right hand in his left, he pushed both into the water and dried the boy's wet hand on the towel. “Of course, I did wait until you were locked in before removing the Leashing Spell,” he admitted with a sigh. “You don't have kin storming the doors, but sometimes I think you don't need them. You do make me nervous, Star.”

“Good,” Starscream replied absently as he looked from the locked door to the odd assembly of items on the table. Was he trapped in this little room forever? There being only one chair, Megatron sat down on the table, pushing his silver hair back with a big hand and studying his bride's face intently.

“You're not honestly going to make me go through a wedding ceremony right now?” Starscream all but begged. “I haven't slept properly in days, thanks to you.”

Megatron chuckled, his eyes lighting up with admiration as he looked at the boy. “Star, what you could do with another few hours, I'd be terrified to see. You'd slip right through my fingers like a ghost. I promise you can sleep right after the wedding, sleep for days if you want to, but the ceremony's critical and it's always done immediately.”

Starscream pushed his bottom lip out in a pout that had always worked wondrously on his father.

“In our world, there's nothing more important than the marriage of the King because that's where the new King comes from, and that's how the magic of the race continues. The ceremony tests the bride for certain qualifications, it makes indications about the future, it ensures that he stays underground where he'll be safe, and it protects him against every kind of harm. The King's Wife ceremony is completely practical and, therefore, largely unpleasant,” concluded the goblin with a resigned shrug.

Starscream considered this information unhappily. Then he brightened.

“But I might fail some test, then?” he pointed out.

“Don't get your hopes up, Starscream. You're ideal.” He watched the boy's crestfallen expression with a smile. “But it goes beyond tests and protections. The point is that once it's over, you're one of us. Now, that doesn't thrill you, but it does thrill my people. I don't think you can understand what it means to them. Goblins are a close-knit, gregarious society. That's our strength. The King's Wife doesn't become a goblin, of course, but he's tremendously important, so the goblins are fascinated by him. If he waves his hand about in a certain way when he talks, all the goblins copy him. If he prefers a certain color, everyone wears it. If he has a favorite flower, every goblin who goes outside tries to bring him one, and they adore him if it's at all possible. Everyone adored my mother—my father, most of all.”

Starscream pictured Sunwave in this same room, years before, and wondered how he had felt.

Megatron picked up one of the golden circlets and rolled it in his hands for a moment. “Enough about life beyond the ceremony,” he said with a sigh. “We both have to get ready. Star, the King's Bride is a captured bride, stolen, hysterical, weeping and wailing. That's what usually happens. But you weren't stolen; you came here willingly. You made a promise, and now you're carrying it through. That's very important,” he said seriously. “You need to remember that. Don't kick up a fuss. Don't make anyone drag you around. Keep up your dignity. It'll help.

“The entire ceremony presumes a desperate captive androgyne of great magical powers. During the ceremony, he is shackled both magically and actually. No one speaks to him in a language he understands, and he himself is wordless. He is taken where he needs to go, and he has no control over what happens. Which means that you have the easy part. Everyone else does all the work.”

“But I don't have any magical powers!” protested Starscream. Megatron glanced at him sharply.

“I don't know how you could have,” he admitted, “but it makes no difference. The ceremony is always the same. If there's no need for the precautions, we'll never know. If there is need of them, they're always in place.” Starscream could see the rather brutal logic of this.

“At the end of the ceremony, it no longer matters whether you have tremendous magic or hordes of relations. No power on earth, including my own, can make you back into what you were before. You're the King's Wife from that moment on until one or the other of us dies, regardless of what we do or don’t do afterward, and you're underground forever.”

Starscream stared numbly at the gold circle in his big gray hands. As he watched, the goblin clicked it open into two halves. Reaching down, he closed it again on the boy's wrist. Starscream lifted his hand in the dim light but could see no seam in the metal. An inch-wide golden bracelet followed the contours of his wrist as closely as if it had been designed just for him. Megatron was already putting one on his other wrist. Then he knelt down and began unfastening the boy's shoes. Feeling embarrassed, Starscream did it himself, and Megatron put the other bracelets on his bare ankles.

“Now, drink this,” the goblin King ordered, retrieving the goblet and setting it in front of Starscream. He watched the boy carefully, both amused and a little irritated as his bride’s expression turned mutinous.

“What does it do?” Starscream demanded.

“It takes away your words,” Megatron replied patiently. “Most magic depends on the right words, so this will block you from attempting defensive spells and charms. I know, I know, you can't work spells and charms, but you have to drink it, anyway.”

“What if I don't?” Starscream asked mulishly.

“Do you see this?” Megatron asked. Part of the cup rim was shaped like a metal whistle. “I grab your hair, and I yank your head back, and I wedge this between your teeth. Then I pour the drink down your throat. It's not that hard, really.”

Starscream glared indignantly at his impassive expression.

“Star,” said the goblin, “remember what I told you. You offered to do this. This was all your choice. It'll help you to think about that. It won't make any difference in the outcome of the ceremony, but you'll feel better about it, and you'll keep up your courage.”

Starscream lifted the goblet and took a small sip. Then he paused. What if I just refuse to swallow? he thought stubbornly.

Megatron grinned at him. “It's already worked. It just needs to touch your tongue. You can spit it out if you want to.” Glowering desperately, Starscream swallowed with an effort. “That's it then,” Megatron said, turning toward the inner door. “You're all set to go to the women now and get ready. Remember, they won't talk to you, and you can't talk to them. And any frantic flailing around you do is sure to be palace gossip for years.”

“How perfectly barbaric,” Starscream sneered. At least, that was what he intended to say. What he actually said was, “Aaah.”

“Exactly,” said Megatron approvingly. “I'm locking this door behind you, so your magic spells won't work, anyway. The only way out is at the other end of the women's chamber, and that's where I'll be waiting when you're ready.”

* * *

Starscream soon concluded bitterly that the ceremony itself couldn't be any more humiliating than the preparation. Goblin women of all shapes and sizes seized him, popped him into a large, soapy tub, and scrubbed him as if he were a dirty cooking pot. Then they pulled him out again, wrapped him in towels, and set him on a stone couch. Two women started combing his wet hair while others rubbed him with oil, puffed him with powder, trimmed his toenails, and polished his fingernails. He felt like a horse being groomed.

Starscream drowsily watched the monster women at work on him. Here I am, he thought bitterly, being hustled into marriage just like those poor Sabine women who were dragged away by the Romans. He wondered how many of those Roman men had been old, or ugly, or deformed. It didn't matter because the captive women had to marry them anyway, but he doubted that a single one of them had a husband more ugly than his.

He thought about the goblin King, with his gray skin, his big, bony head, and those eyes like coals glowing out of their deep sockets. Starscream's father had taught him that his husband would be his closest companion, his comfort and guide, the guardian of his honor and virtue. A husband and wife belonged to each other body and soul. He thought again of how Steelrim Bryht had tried to claim that for himself earlier and shivered.

He thought about the few poems he had read, about that glorious love shared by man and wife that transformed the poorest people into cherished treasures in each other's eyes. What a mockery of love this was, he thought bitterly. He imagined Megatron's thick arms around him, those awful brown lips kissing his own. When Eve left Paradise, she left with handsome Adam, but Starscream was leaving with the snake.

No, that’s not fair, he told himself firmly. I promised to be this creature’s wife, and I can’t be a coward about it now. I’m not really a captive like those Roman brides, and it’s not his fault he’s ugly. And those arms were around me on the way home. He wrapped me in his cloak so I wouldn’t be cold. He didn’t feel deformed and hideous; he felt strong, and he was kind. And he’s promised he’ll never force me, and I do believe he was earnest when he said he never lies. He never has yet. He wants that heir, but he’ll let it be my choice if and when I give it to him. Perhaps, he thought wistfully, it won’t be so awful. I’ve never been kissed by a handsome man, so I suppose I’ll never know the difference. This was my idea. I have to remember that. I saved Warp’s life, and I Steelrim Bryht, that’s the important thing, and now I have to live with the consequences. He recalled his father’s favorite lines from Milton:  _ Nor love thy life, not hate; but what thou livest, live well. _

Starscream became aware of a change in the activity around him and opened his eyes with an effort. Old Airachnia stood beside his couch. Picking up a paintbrush and dipping it in black ink, she began to write in small, neat letters down Starscream's right arm, starting a little above the elbow and ending at the wrist. Starscream felt annoyed. He hoped they would wash that writing off because otherwise he was going to look like a cannibal prince at the wedding. Of course, he reflected unhappily, he hadn't seen his dress yet. An arm covered with black ink might be the most stylish thing about him before the goblin women let him go.

Coming to the end of her row of letters, the old dwarf woman picked up a glass bottle and dotted some oil onto Starscream's arm. Two of the black ink letters faded and then brightened into gold. Airachnia dipped the paintbrush and started on another row. She wrote line after line, first on the right arm and then on the left. Each time, she ended with a dot of some liquid, and each time, one or two of the letters in the line changed to gold. Eventually it dawned on Starscream that these were the tests of the King's Bride, and it was obvious from the excited faces around him that he was passing them all.

The women had dried his hair as Airachnia worked, and now they were winding it full of ribbons. Starscream thought bitterly of Megatron's promise to Skywarp that the goblins would weave ribbons into his hair. Better Warp than him. One simple ribbon might have been fine, but they must have ten or fifteen in there by now. The women stood Starscream up and brought him undergarments, which he hurriedly put on, worried that they were so short and skimpy. Then two of the women stepped him into a dress. As they hooked up the back, Starscream looked down at himself in real concern. Style was not really the issue, and neither was comfort. The simple fact of the matter was that there had better be more clothing than this.

Starscream looked around anxiously for more garments, but the women beckoned him to a tall mirror instead. He stared at his reflection in complete shock. His hair, twisted and puffed into an elaborate swirl, rested high on the back of his head. One long, thin strand of hair hadn’t been put up at all, and now a goblin woman tugged it around to fall, loose, down the front of his neck. The dress left his arms and shoulders entirely bare, and his back was bare down to the shoulder blades. It was more skin than he’d ever show by choice.

He didn’t look like a cannibal prince; he looked like the engravings of ancient tribal warrior queens he’d seen in his father’s books. Although, the dress itself was something he didn’t think even those artists could have imagined. The tight bodice was of gold cloth, and it gleamed in the dim light like polished metal. The skirt was unlike any he had ever seen. It was made of many loose and wispy layers of red silk, as if someone had sewn hundreds of handkerchiefs onto an underlying petticoat without rhyme or reason. Poking out beneath were his shins in their gold bands and his bare feet. It was a look he never could have worn or even achieved in English society. A small smile curled his crimson-painted lips.

Airachnia appeared next to Starscream’s pleasantly surprised reflection and beckoned him over to the door. Starscream instantly forgot his excitement about the dress in a wave of pure panic. As Airachnia pushed the low door open, he tried to reason with himself. How bad can it be? he thought. I don't have to speak lines, and I won't forget what I'm supposed to do next. The King said I have the easy part. He stepped forward bravely.

Ahead of him stretched a low, short tunnel. Two goblin men in golden armor appeared in the doorway. I wonder, he thought sarcastically, if that armor's there to protect them from my powerful magic. After all, goblins don't believe in taking chances. Each carried a short chain of thick gold links. They stopped on either side of him, touched the chains to his golden bracelets, and there he was, effortlessly shackled. But they didn't haul him off. Instead, they hesitated. Starscream remembered what Megatron had told him: “Don't make anyone drag you around.” He squared his bare shoulders, lifted his chin, and walked down the tunnel, the armored goblins keeping pace on either side.

At the end of the tunnel, he stopped inadvertently, his eyes trying to make sense of the dim cavern beyond. These creatures just don't use enough light, he thought. Turning his head to the left, he could see through the gloom that a huge crowd of goblins was gathered above him in some sort of rough amphitheater. The stage area was floored with black stone, and he could see two stone tables arranged on it, each lit by its own set of torches.

The goblin King was standing sideways to the crowd, facing Starscream, about twenty feet away, looking as delightfully barbaric as Starscream felt. His silver hair was wild, as usual, and he wore a loose black shirt untucked over baggy black trousers, the ends of which were stuffed into short boots. Starscream decided that he looked like a far more fantastic version of a peasant in an old tale. He was wearing the cape that he had worn at court, and the gold letters on it shimmered as they caught the torchlight. At a gentle tug from one of the guards, Starscream stepped out from the shadow of the tunnel, and a great shout went up from the assembled goblins. So it's going to be like that, he thought. There'll be no fine music at my wedding. Ah, well. He couldn’t think of any music that would fit the tone set by his and Megatron’s attire anyway.

On the black floor of the cavern in front of him were four large, square sand paintings, a goblin letter against a different-colored background of sand. As he walked across them, the letters shifted and writhed alarmingly under his bare feet. Stopping in front of the goblin King, he glanced back to find that the letters had already blown away.

The crowd roared with approval at whatever had happened, and Megatron walked toward the first table. The guards started off after him, Starscream between them. He couldn’t help a sense of approval as he realized there was nothing here he could recognize from wedding ceremonies in his own world, which he had always thought unnecessarily sentimental—no vicar, flowers, or church steps. I don’t even have a bouquet, he noted pleasantly. No one will bother me to press a shackle in my diary. But then he saw what was on the tables.

The first stone table was ringed by torches in stands. It was long and narrow, and it was just tall enough to be convenient to someone standing by it. The table held a variety of items, but the most startling was a set of three small golden knives. These captured Starscream's complete attention. His guards stopped in front of the table, and Megatron walked around to face the boy across it. The guards fitted his wrist bracelets into two metal brackets, then detached the chain and stepped back, leaving him anchored, palms up, to the table with the knives.

Starscream could hear the crowd shifting and murmuring. He couldn't resist a pleading glance at Megatron even though he knew the goblin wasn't supposed to speak to him, but the goblin King didn't make any reassuring gestures. First he took a small paintbrush and wrote some symbol on the boy's forehead in gold paint. The searing pain of the acidic paint took him by surprise. Then Megatron uncurled his captive hands and stretched them out carefully so that the palms were taut, tracing with his thumbs the lines across them. When he turned away, Starscream found that he was unable to move his hands at all. Megatron picked up two knives from the table, bright eyes stern with concentration as he studied his marks. Starscream felt that he had never looked so inhuman before, so completely removed from the world the boy understood. I will not believe this is really happening, he thought desperately, and he screwed his eyes shut as Megatron raised the knives.

It was over with a swiftness that left him time for nothing louder than a gasp. He opened his eyes to see two long red slashes stretching from the bends of his wrists down to the center of each palm. Megatron quickly dropped the knives and pulled the boy's hands free from the brackets, holding them so that the blood spattered into an empty bowl. Starscream gave another gasp as the stinging pain of the wounds reached him. It was one thing to  _ look _ like a barbaric heathen, and quite another to  _ act _ like one! Satisfied, apparently, with the amount of blood he had collected, Megatron next plunged Starscream's hands into a bowl of water. Except it wasn't water. Starscream's vision went black as the wounds seared like fire, but when the King lifted his hands out, the bleeding had stopped. He wrapped a cloth around each hand and put them back into the brackets again. Starscream wasn't entirely sorry to have some sort of stable support because he was shaking all over.

As Starscream's vision cleared, he saw with horror that the goblin King was reaching for the last knife, but this time he bared his own pale arm, wrist up, and held it over the bloody bowl. Starscream felt a distinct satisfaction as he made his cut, but then he had a further shock. The goblin's blood was a dark, clear brown. Starscream watched it drip into the bowl, brown pool on red pool, feeling a little sick.

The goblin King reached for a small plate of powder and threw some into the bowl. Starscream saw the blood inside blend and swirl. A thick red vapor began to fill the bowl, climbing over the sides and rolling across the table, the boy pulled back in disgust. Megatron stepped closer to the bowl, watching intently. A silvery mist was forming over the top of the red vapor. It sparkled in the torchlight as it rose into a swirling cloud several feet high. Starscream thought in surprise that it was the prettiest thing to happen at this farce of a marriage ceremony. Megatron looked completely stunned, and the huge crowd of goblins erupted into bedlam. Startled and anxious, Starscream glanced at Megatron for guidance and found him staring as if he were seeing the boy for the first time.

As the strange cloud faded away, Starscream saw that the revolting blood was gone from the bowl. In its place sparkled a silver pink cream as thick as cake frosting. Megatron dipped his finger into the glittering cream and rubbed it along the slashes on Starscream's hands. The pain faded out as he did so, and the puckered edges of the wounds flattened, but an iridescent silvery pink line stayed in each palm. As the crowd hushed Megatron studied the lines. Turning to the throng, he called out something in goblin, whereupon they cheered and stomped again.

Starscream's guards fastened their chains to his and set off for the next table. By it lay a cushion between two brackets on tall rods. Megatron helped the boy to kneel on the cushion and adjusted the brackets beside him. These came up and cradled his elbows, locking over the bend in the arm. Then the goblin crossed to the table a few feet away. It also held a variety of small instruments. These items didn't worry Starscream, although perhaps they should have. He was staring instead at the very largest thing on the table, a golden sword about five feet long. It was elaborately engraved, but he could make out nothing except faint scratches in the gold. The hilt was a simple continuation of the metal of the blade; it had no guard to give it a sword's familiar crosslike shape. Starscream stared at it suspiciously. Maybe this had all been some horrible ruse. Maybe the goblin King had intended all along to kill him in some hideous sacrifice.

Leaning down, Megatron kindled a magical flame in the middle of a large golden plate. Then he came toward the boy with small scissors and a tiny bowl. He pulled one of Starscream's hands out straight and cut off several fingernails into the bowl, then he added several of his own and fed them all to the fire. He sheared off the ridiculous lock of hair that the women had left loose on Starscream's neck, then one of his own silver locks, and burned them as well.

Megatron picked up a large needle and a small golden plate. Starscream recognized danger. He clenched his fists so tightly that Megatron had to set the plate down and use both hands to free a finger and jab the needle into it. He forced several drops of blood onto the plate. On one knee by the table he next stabbed his own finger. Starscream watched in panicked revulsion. He didn't know how much more bloodshed he could take.

Very intent now, the goblin King bent close to the little fire, holding the plate upside down over the flames so that they could lick off the drops of blood. The fire vanished, leaving a small mound of silver ash behind. Carefully and deliberately, he took these ashes on his finger and rubbed them all over the blade of the long sword. The entire crowd was still now. Starscream held his breath.

From the sword came a musical tone, as if it had been struck against the table. Megatron picked up the weapon and walked toward him, his expression distant and impassive. He's going to kill me, Starscream thought desperately. The goblin King seized the hilt in both hands and whirled the sword over his head. Then he brought it down upon the boy in a whistling arc.

Eyes tightly shut, Starscream felt the cold metal touch his hair, slide down his back and loop around his shoulder. He waited in breathless suspense for whatever people feel when their heads are split open. But something wasn't right. He opened his eyes cautiously. A long golden snake glided around his neck and reared up in front of his face. Swaying back and forth, it considered his terrified features carefully, a slender golden tongue flicking from its long, curving jaws. Starscream couldn't move a muscle. He couldn't even blink. The snake turned away from him dismissively and looped its length three times around his upper right arm, tail almost by his elbow, before arranging the rest of itself about his neck in a loose spiral. Petrified at no longer being able to see his enemy, Starscream bent his head slowly and peered down at his arm. As he watched, the tight coils collapsed and became flat with his skin, just as if an artist had painted a golden snake on him.

Starscream screamed, twisting in his brackets to try to reach the flattened snake. But no one could hear him. The goblins were screaming themselves, chanting, cheering, and yowling at the top of their lungs. The King's Wife ceremony was over.


	11. Chapter Ten

There was a confusion of intense noise and movement. Starscream could hear his own voice screaming and see Megatron's face before his. His screams died down to a whimper as he looked around for the torches, the table, the crowd. He was sitting on a couch in a small room, and Megatron was by him, clamping his hands in a strong grip. He caught sight of the shining coils on his bare arm and began to struggle again, but when he called out for help, all that emerged was a long wail.

“Drink this,” said Megatron, and a cup rim was in the boy's open mouth. He choked, and his wail resolved itself into words.

“Get it off! Get it off! It's inside my skin!” he cried. Megatron held his wrists with one hand as he put the cup down.

“Starscream, for pity's sake,” he said matter-of-factly, “it's not in your skin, and neither of us can possibly get it off. It isn't even a snake. It's a powerful magic charm that protects you. Right now it's in a resting form, and you can only see it. You can't feel it at all, so don't rip yourself up trying to scratch it off.”

Starscream craned his neck to see as much of the flat snake as possible, and he stopped trying to struggle. “But I want it off,” he insisted petulantly.

“Well, you'll just have to put up with it, because it's there until one of us dies, and I'm not prepared to resort to that option just for your vanity. That's the King's Wife Charm, the most powerful piece of magic we goblins have. It comes from the days of the First Fathers, from the very first King. You're better protected by that charm than I am by my magic. If anything were to attack you, it would give a paralyzing bite far faster than a real snake could, and the creature would stay paralyzed until I delivered judgment on whether it should live or die. It safeguards you from accident and magical attack and keeps you from doing anything dangerous to yourself. If it has to, it will bite you, too, and then come report to the King that you've done something foolish.”

Megatron released his hands, watching him closely. Starscream rubbed his fingers experimentally over the coils on his arm, but he couldn't tell that anything was there.

“I can't believe you've done this,” he fumed. “I've never been through anything so barbaric in my life. And you people call that farce a wedding!”

“I told you the ceremony was unpleasant,” said the goblin with a shrug. “Unpleasant, but very, very important. Star, did you know you're an elf?”

Starscream stared blankly at him. “A what?” he demanded.

“No, you didn't,” he affirmed. “I thought not. It must have been that adopted boy who played with my mother, since my mother was entirely human, and after that, the family moved away from the elf lands. You're an elf-human cross, but you're quite powerfully elf, much more so than your brother. I couldn't be more pleased. With their innate magic, elves make the best King's Wives. Our son will be a stronger King because of it. We thought that all the elves were dead, and the scholars suspected that the goblins wouldn't survive it.”

Starscream glared at him, deeply offended. “I am not an elf,” he insisted. “I'm an Englishman!”

The goblin King chuckled, surveying him fondly. “Then perhaps you can tell me what in your English heritage taught you to watch out for goblins,” he suggested. “You hadn't even heard of them, but you knew not to let me touch you, much less put you on a horse. And what about your breaking out of my sleep spells? Do you have any idea how frustrating that was for me? That's why you ran to the truce circle, too, and why you fought off the Persuasion Spell as well as you did. You even look like an elf, come to think of it. I had enough hints; I should have realized it. All my training told me you were working magic on the ride home.”

“You can't be sure of that,” Starscream said severely. “You're just guessing.”

“Of course I'm sure,” he replied. “I tested your blood against mine. That test shows all the races shared by the King and Wife. You remember the red cloud?” Starscream wrinkled his nose. “Our shared human blood. And the larger silver cloud? Our shared elf blood. Much stronger than the human blood, if you remember. I imagine that adopted boy was actually half human, and that's how he wound up an orphan. The birth would have killed his elf mother, and his human father likely didn't know what to do with him. We'll have to be careful with you, too,” he mused. “Childbirth will be even more of a problem than I'd feared. Elves don't get through it easily.”

Starscream didn't have any idea how to answer him, and the thought of childbirth put him even further out of sorts than he'd been to begin with. Rather than let the fear of that prospect consume him, he seized around for something to keep being angry about.

“I am  _ not _ an elf,” he repeated.

Megatron laughed. “You don't really believe in elves, do you? And you don't believe in my nice magic, either. You think I did all that complicated work out there just to show you how barbaric I am. That reminds me,” he added, “I wanted to take another look at your palms.” He lifted the boy's hands in the dim light, studying the silvery lines.

Starscream was overcome with righteous indignation. “How could you do such a thing!” he demanded.

“It isn't easy, two knives at once,” the goblin King admitted absently. “But fortunately, the magic guides the blades.” Starscream continued to glare at him, and he remained oblivious, probably because he wanted to. He turned the smaller hands to and fro in his own, looking closely at them. “You see, mine has a skip in it,” he murmured, then glanced up to meet Starscream's blank look.

“The lines,” Megatron explained patiently, “indicate something of the future lives of King and Wife. Here's yours,” he said, showing Starscream his left hand. “A nice long life. And here's mine,” he added, holding up the right hand. “Another nice long line, but right here toward the top, there's a skip. I wonder what it means,” he mused, frowning at it. “I think it must mean some long illness or absence. That's unusual. Goblins don't generally fall ill, and I'm not likely to leave.”

“Maybe the knife just slipped,” Starscream huffed, and received an indignant glare in his turn. He pushed out his bottom lip and studied his maimed hands. “I thought you said you wouldn't hurt me,” he remembered resentfully. “You cut me open, you stabbed me, you burned me—”

“I didn't burn you,” Megatron contradicted in surprise.

“You did, too! That paint,” Starscream declared, jabbing a finger at his forehead. “It still hurts!”

Puzzled, Megatron took the boy's face between his hands and studied the golden symbol. He pulled one of the wispy pieces from Starscream's skirt, dipped it into a goblet of water, and wiped the paint off.

“Ouch!” cried Starscream, struggling in his grasp. “You're hurting me!”

“No, you're hurting yourself,” the King murmured. “A bright red burn in the shape of the King's Wife symbol. You're fighting the Door Spell. This is the spell that tells my iron doors not to let you out. It's unbreakable,” he added sympathetically, laying his six-fingered hand on the letter, his fingers icy against the burning pain. “You might as well come to terms with it, Star. You're locked in.”

Starscream closed his eyes under the soothing magical touch and struggled to hold back his tears, whether of frustration or genuine sorrow, he no longer knew. He couldn't be locked in here where the moon and stars never shone and where monsters took knives to perfectly civilized young men. “I'm not fighting anything,” he muttered. “Humans can't work magic.”

“They can't, but you are,” answered Megatron, studying the letter again. “you're devoting a lot of magic to this fight, probably all the magic you have. To think that I laughed when you said you wouldn't come to my kingdom. It's no joke to an elf to go underground. You were tired and upset enough to begin with, and now you're caught up in a useless battle against an unbreakable spell. You need rest, Star. I promised that you could sleep for days after the ceremony, and you probably should. Would you like to sleep here or in our bedroom? The King's Wife usually spends his first night in this room.”

Starscream looked around the little room, shivering. His first night locked away from the stars. His first night with a goblin for a husband. The idea of a first night, with many nights to follow it, sounded so horribly permanent. He pressed his hand to his forehead as the burning letter darkened again. “I'm not sleepy,” he said firmly, standing up and roaming the small space unhappily.

Megatron watched him in exasperated amusement. “I should have given you the Stamp of Truth,” he snorted. “Are you just going to wander my palace like a ghost until you fall down unconscious?”

“Maybe,” Starscream muttered.

“All right then,” he sighed. “Come with me. Since you're not sleepy, I'll take you to see something my mother always liked to see.”

This time they walked up staircase after staircase. Starscream was desperately tired. I promised to do this, he reminded himself sternly; I'm married, and I live here now. But he just couldn't bring himself to face the thought.

They came up a wide staircase, the steps gleaming like gigantic gold bricks. They struck Starscream as wonderfully gaudy. The wide hallway that opened out at the top had a gold floor to match them, and the walls were composed of small, precise geometrical inlays of stone that repeated continually up their surfaces. They, too, were rather fantastic, like something in the palace of an Oriental despot. Great square windows lined one side of the hallway, but one broad set of doors faced them. Starscream could see from his vantage at the top of the stairs that guards stood on either side of the doors.

“This is our floor,” said the goblin King, “the royal rooms. Would you like to see them?” he asked, evaluating the boy thoughtfully. Starscream hastily shook his head, thinking of what he might soon find himself convinced to do in such rooms. “No, I didn't think you would,” Megatron laughed, “since you're not sleepy.” At the word, Starscream felt such a wave of exhaustion come over him that he thought he would drop onto the floor. “I brought you up here to see something else, anyway,” the older man added more kindly. “Through here.”

Megatron turned toward the window to their right and led the boy out onto a shallow balcony. Starscream felt dizzy at the view. They were high above the broad, bowl-shaped valley. Tiny lights twinkled across it, seemingly for miles. Above the valley was a velvety blackness. No, not a blackness, a dark purple. Starscream had a sense of lofty space as he stared up into the purple heights.

Megatron waved him to a couch between two of the windows. Then he stepped away for a moment, and the light from the windows went out. Starscream leaned back against the couch, and Megatron sat down beside him.

“How can a cave this big fit under the Hill?” he wanted to know, turning toward where he knew his new husband was lurking in the gloom.

“It doesn't,” Megatron answered, looking down in turn at the dark face that he could see perfectly. The boy's heavy-lidded eyes were red with more than their natural color as his exhaustion threatened to claim him. “You're looking up through the lake. I told you the first time we met that it was hollow.”

Starscream stared up at it, aghast. Then he looked down at the twinkling lights in the valley. They looked pleasant and cozy, blinking away under vast tons of suspended water.

“But what holds the water up?” he wondered.

“Magic, of course. Do you know anything else that could do it? This isn't our first home, but it's an ancient one. The elves came to this region millennia ago, and we goblins followed the elves. My palace looks like a building, but it's more of a subtracting. Originally it was a solid wall of rock between the two parts of my kingdom. Above and behind us, the wall continues, becoming the shore of the lake at the foot of the Hill. Farther up in that wall is the window that forms my water mirror. The same force that keeps the water from pouring into that cavern keeps all the rest of the water from pouring down onto the valley.”

Starscream gazed up at the water sky. It seemed to him that it was not so dark a purple as before. He thought sleepily about the strange world he belonged to now. Palaces, hollow lakes, elves and goblins. The twinkling lights spun and blurred in his drowsy vision.

Megatron folded his arms and patiently waited for him to fall asleep. He could have enchanted the boy in an instant, but he had sworn to him that he would never again force him into anything.

“Where did the elves come from?” Starscream asked softly after a moment.

“From the First Fathers, like the goblins,” Megatron replied. “The First Fathers had no bodies and no young, but they wanted to make a race of their own. They probably intended to found one race, but they couldn't agree. The First Fathers of the elves wanted to take only what was beautiful to make their children, but the First Fathers of the goblins wanted strength. Our Fathers thought that if a creature had a powerful eye or a claw, then it should be used, but the Fathers of the elves couldn't endure such irregularity. The elves must be beautiful,” he remarked, studying the sleepy face beside him, “even if they can't defend themselves.”

“What's that?” Starscream murmured, having only been sparing a portion of his attention to the speech. Above him, the purple darkness had lightened to violet. Now, a dark silver circle began to shimmer in the sky. Starscream sat up to look at it. It seemed to wobble and shake about, high above him. As he watched, it brightened to a luminous opacity.

“It's the sunrise from my kingdom,” Megatron told him. “My mother liked to watch it, so I thought you might enjoy it, too.”

The violet became cobalt. Gradually, the silver circle faded, and the color changed and became more transparent. It formed a sky he never could have imagined, a sky of the darkest, clearest blue, and everything below it was bathed in a shifting twilight. He looked down at his lap. Under the light, his red skirt was a dark purple, and his hands, a sort of gray lilac. They seemed to be detached from him, as if they belonged to someone else.

Starscream thought longingly of that sunrise on the shore of the lake, of the pink and gold clouds and the birds singing. The same sun, the same lake, but now he was underneath the water. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest. I promised to do this, he thought, closing his eyes. I live here now. His head rolled back on the couch and Megatron watched him closely.

“When I became King,” he said quietly, “the last known elf had already been dead for fifty years. Now I have several strong elf crosses in my kingdom. I wonder if the elvish race is reviving.”

Starscream didn't hear him. He was fast asleep, all the anger and frustration gone from his face leaving only worry and anxiety. Megatron studied him for a long minute, touching the angry burn on his forehead. Then he picked the boy up carefully and took him in to tuck him into their bed before spreading a few blankets out on the floor beside it for himself.

* * *

The next evening, Starscream went out in public for the first time since the ceremony. Sitting by the King in the banquet hall, he met the goblins' curious stares with a haughty gaze of his own. Their bizarre shapes and sizes took away what little appetite he had. Skywarp sat beside him, terribly impressed with his brother's new appearance. Starscream was wearing breeches and a loose shirt of blue silk that was more comfortable than the wedding dress even if it was less interesting, but he felt unhappily that it did no good to try to look nice. Everyone just stared at the coils of the golden snake visible above his neckline. All the unwanted scrutiny made Starscream snappy.

Megatron warned Skywarp not to make any threatening moves toward his brother. “Otherwise, the snake will paralyze you, and then I'll have to deliver judgment on whether you live or die,” he teased. Skywarp thought he would love to have such a snake. He had hoped for one of his own, but Megatron told him that only Starscream got one, which he thought was just typical.

Starscream watched the goblin King pile up food on his new Wife's plate. Some of it was vaguely recognizable, like the flat bread. Some of it looked very unfamiliar, like the skewered chunks of meat.

“Where are the forks?” Starscream asked, looking around.

“Forks are absurd,” Megatron scoffed. “They insult your food. They make it think you're killing it twice.”

“How do you expect me to eat without a fork?” Starscream demanded, not that he had been planning to eat anyway.

“Really!” Megatron laughed. “I imagine you'll find a way. I'd be very surprised if you gave up eating at such a young age.” He himself ate heartily and surprisingly neatly with his hands and with those tusks in the way, using the bread as an edible utensil. Starscream nibbled at the bread and pushed things around experimentally with it. Everything tasted unusual, and most of the food had a rather strong flavor.

“What kind of meat is this?” he asked suspiciously. Megatron grinned, understanding his concern.

“Goblins eat sheep for the most part,” he answered, “and we never eat a female animal. In part because our own females so often can't have children, the beast goblins cross out to all kinds of different species. We view anyone with childbearing capabilities as a mother, a sacred life.”

“That reminds me,” interrupted Skywarp. “When are you going to have your baby, Star? Soon?” His brother turned bright pink and nearly choked on his tongue. Megatron raised an eyebrow at his young wife's distress.

“Not soon,” he answered for the boy. “It's not so easy for goblins to have children, Warp. Married couples spend a lot of time trying and hoping, and eventually things work out. That's the way it is for Kings, too. My parents were married for ten years before I was born, and I've read of fifteen or even twenty years of marriage before the Heir is born.”

“Twenty years!” said Skywarp in horror. “I can't wait that long.”

Megaron picked up Starscream's right hand and rubbed his thumb over the skip in the knife wound. “Neither can I,” he said thoughtfully.

“ _ I  _ can!” Starscream told them decidedly, tugging his hand back.

Megatron brought up the subject again when he and Starscream were alone. The boy was sitting on the tall stool in the King's workroom, watching him make salve. “Humans have the easy life,” he told his wife, grinding herbs. “Many humans can have a child a year. But goblins and elves don't reproduce nearly that easily, and the King has the hardest time of all. In order to pass his magic on to his son, he has to find a wife from outside his own race, who is an androgyne, no less, and it's not enough just to marry him. He has to become interested in his wife and look for traits in him to admire. The way the King thinks about his wife affects the way the Heir is formed, so if he has a strong wife that he cares about, his son will be a better King. It's the goal of every King to have a son greater than he is. Often the marriages don't work out that well, but that's the idea.”

Starscream shifted uncomfortably while Megatron fetched and measured ingredients, thinking about what else would have to go into making that son. “What about the way the wife thinks?” he demanded. “Don't I contribute something to all this?”

“Of course,” answered Megatron, much to his surprise. “The best Kings are the sons of wives who care about their new people. There are traits about the son that will surprise the father, but they're things the mother appreciated: about himself, his husband, or goblins in general. And the better the wife settles in—not just with his husband, but with the kingdom as a whole—the sooner the Heir is born, so you do have a big part in the process.”

“Did your mother settle in well?” asked Starscream.

“Oh, yes.” Megatron laughed. “Not that he wasn't homesick at first, like you, but soon he was marching all over the kingdom, looking for adventure. He turned the place upside down. He talked the bird goblins into trying to take him up over the valley in baskets and persuaded the tall goblins, the ones who got you lost, to carry him for rides. More goblins were bitten for endangering the King's Wife in my mother's first ten years than in the whole previous century. Half the time my father didn't know where he was. He settled in, but he didn't settle down.”

Starscream hummed thoughtfully, wondering how Sunwave had managed it when  _ he _ hadn’t been able to go for a walk  _ outside _ of the goblin's kingdom without him knowing. Then another thought occurred to him.

“What about your first wife?”

Megatron’s hands stopped moving. “No, he didn’t. He… Well, I’ve already told you that story.”

“Were there things you admired about him?” Starscream wondered.

“I never had a chance to get to know him,” the goblin King shrugged, “but… Well, if there’s anything I admire about him, it’s that my magic is better for having spent all those years searching for a way to help him.”

“How did he die?”

“His heart stopped. I suspect it was another illness he inherited from his mother because he wasn’t yet 30 at the time. I could have saved him, but…” Megatron trailed off and shook his head. “He’s happier where he is now than he was here with me. I only wish I could have done more for him before it came to that.”

“You could have let him out,” Starscream pointed out, but Megatron shook his head again with a bitter expression.

“Even if that had been an option, he would have spent the rest of his days in an asylum had he returned to the human world. At least here he was free to roam the kingdom as he liked, and the magic I used to protect him from himself was far kinder than what you humans use on those afflicted with such ailments. I may have advanced the process of his madness when I took him, but I suspect he still had a better life than he would have if I hadn’t.”

Starscream watched the goblin King pounding herbs and adding them to the bowl of salve for a while longer, lost in his own thoughts. He’d mostly tried not to think about Megatron’s first wife and his unfortunate fate before now, partly because, if he had to think on another King’s Wife, it was more heartening to think of Sunwave Bryht romping all over the kingdom and raising the man who was now Starscream’s own husband. He had assumed until now that the unnamed boy Megatron had stolen from the lakeshore had died in some complication related to bearing an heir, since that was the fate of most androgynes who died young, but it sounded as though the two of them had never gotten to a point where they might have conceived one.

“If the things I appreciate show up in my son,” he asked eventually, “why would I cry when I see him?”

“Because your husband is a goblin,” explained Megatron, stirring the salve, “and your son will be a goblin, too. In spite of the constant crossing out, the King is the most goblin of his entire race. And goblin means asymmetrical—you'd say deformed—and full of unusual animal traits. The Kings are known by their strong traits: Megatron Bearpelt, Megatron Batwing, Megatron Birdclaw. The beast goblins bring the traits into the goblin race as they cross out to different animal species. Once a trait comes in, it can show up anywhere. That's how a goblin from the high families, who never marry animals, can have fangs of a leopard or the wings of a bird. And there are even traits that exist in no species alive, just from all the odd magic at work.

“Because of all the possibilities, there's no way to predict what the magic will do. After all, it's not a conscious process. Something you admire may be exactly what causes your son to have what you would call a terrible deformity. My father loved my mother's eyes, and my mother loved my father's eyes.” Megatron grinned at him, his unmatched eyes sparkling. “So I have one of each.”

* * *

Three months passed. Starscream struggled to come to terms with his new life. He had agreed to his marriage, but he hadn't realized how long life could be. He had dealt with loss before, but the loss of his entire world was beyond anything he had imagined.

The goblin King was aware of his misery; indeed, he had expected it, and did what he could to try to help the boy. When his wife woke up screaming from horrible nightmares, he took them away, and when he lay awake, restless and anxious, he sat and talked with him about anything and everything until he finally fell asleep. When Starscream cried, Megatron held him patiently, which was the best thing that a great magician could do for a crying wife. Starscream found to his relief that he had been right: being kissed by an ugly goblin was not really so bad, even one with tusks; in fact, it was one of the few things about his new life that he began to enjoy. The other was sleeping. He would have slept all the time if he could have. The nights seemed very short, but the days were terribly long.

Starscream woke out of a dream about Hallow Hill one morning and couldn't recall where he was. “Good morning,” said Megatron, from his semi-permanent bed on the floor, and the boy's view resolved itself into the stone ceiling of their bedroom. Disappointment overwhelmed him, and he closed his eyes tightly. A lump rose in his throat.

“Or maybe not a good morning.” The goblin rose from the floor to reach for him, and Starscream buried his face in those now-familiar arms, hiding from another long day under the earth. “Come on,” said his husband. “I have court this morning.”

Starscream shook his head, his arms around the other man's neck as he started to turn away. “You said the King's Wife is more important,” he pouted.

Megatron studied his sad, somewhat wan face. “Much more important,” he said, and he bent to kiss the boy. “All right. We don't have to get up just yet.”

He fell into the bed beside his wife and drew him close. Starscream felt his breath catch in his throat as he was enveloped in his husband’s careful strength. Though they’d been living together for several months by that point, it was rare for Megatron to get into the bed with him, and they had yet to consummate their marriage. Starscream wasn’t sure how he felt about the matter anymore. On the one hand, he still harbored resentment toward the goblin King for putting him in a situation where he’d had to choose such a life, but on the other, he’d be lying if he said there was nothing he was fond of about his husband, and the goblin’s thick, wiry body was certainly one of those things.

“You smell quite nice,” Megatron hummed, burying his nose in his wife’s thick curls.

Starscream made a noncommittal noise, fingers tracing the shape of the goblin man’s heavy collarbones and up the lines of his sinewy neck. His husband’s arms tightened around him, and Starscream stiffened as he felt a warm thrill swoop through his body. One of Megatron’s hands trailed lazily up and down his spine, moving a little too low.

“We should get up after all,” Starscream announced quickly, pushing against Megatron’s chest, and the goblin released him without comment.

Later that morning he came into Starscream's dressing room, ready for court, and found the boy still sitting before the mirror in his robe. In his old life, Starscream had never wasted time getting ready. Now there didn't seem to be any point in hurrying. Megatron took the brush from him and began working on his hair, which had grown further still past the length he usually liked it since their wedding.

“I should put my hair up,” Starscream announced. “That's what married people do.”

“Put up your hair!” exclaimed Megatron. “Why not just cut it off! That hair,” he added pensively, was the first thing I noticed about you when I saw you walking away from the truce circle.”

Starscream stiffened, remembering those horrible nights when he had known someone was watching him. In fact, Megatron had often been standing right beside him in the shadows, amused at his pathetic attempts to see in the dark.

“That's just your elf blood talking,” Starscream said spitefully, “noticing a pretty thing like hair! A goblin King should have been looking for strong traits in a wife.”

“Oh, your hair is very strong,” he laughed. “I think it's magical. I'm sure when our son is born, he'll have your hair.” And he began brushing again, perfectly serene.

“How are people supposed to know I'm married if I wear my hair down like a little girl?” Starscream asked indignantly.

“By looking at this?” his husband suggested, pointing at the snake around his neck. Misery flooded Starscream again as he thought about the snake and all it represented. But I did this for Skywarp, he reminded himself, and he loves living with the goblin children. Our guardian probably would have killed him by now.

Skwyarp was a page, one of about a hundred likely children from the high families. They lived on the pages' floor, had lessons from a variety of masters, and took turns serving at court. In spite of his elf blood, he was proving hopeless at magic. As the two nongoblin children among the pages, he and Thundercracker were inseparable. Skywarp admired Thundercracker tremendously, and he had never before been admired. He still divided his time pretty evenly between being a cat and being a boy, in part because Skywarp was more impressed by his exploits when he performed them as a cat.

A little later, Starscream sat in the banquet hall, ignoring his breakfast. I'm surrounded by monsters, he thought dramatically. Monsters everywhere. Usually, he found it at least a little exciting, but today it just depressed him.

“Star,” said the goblin King, “do you know why today's harder than yesterday?”

“What do you mean?” he asked listlessly.

“You know perfectly well what I mean,” Megatron replied, unperturbed. “The last couple of weeks haven't been so bad. Today's very bad, and I'm wondering if you know why.”

Starscream's homesickness welled up inside him until it hurt like a physical pain. “Warp and I had done chores all day,” he whispered, “lessons, needlepoint, housecleaning. And we were finally finished. We were going up to the tree circle to watch the stars come out. We had just walked to the door, and that's when I woke up.”

The King drank his tea with a thoughtful expression. “You haven't had nightmares in a few weeks,” he mused, “but it would probably be a good idea to take away your dreams again. They aren't helping.”

“Don't you dare,” said Starscream quickly. It was true that he slept better when he let his husband work his magic on him, but it didn't mean he liked the arrangement much. “I just got up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Megatron laughed. “Sides of the bed aren't your problem, Star. Poor little elf. It's sad, really. The very things that make you a perfect King's Wife make it harder for you to be happy.”

“I'm not an elf,” insisted Starscream.

“When you tell me what you miss,” Megatron observed, “you always tell me elf things: stars, plants, walks in the forest. My mother was a human, and the things he missed were human things: his father, his horse, Christmas dinner with the family.”

“Did he tell you that?” asked Starscream, not really interested.

“No. I read Father's notes about him after they'd both died.”

“Why would your father write notes about your mother?” Starscream wanted to know, finally looking up from the food he was pushing about his plate.

Megatron raised an eyebrow and set his teacup down.

“All the Kings do. They keep their wives' histories in the King's Wife Chronicles. I think it's forty-seven volumes now.” Starscream blinked at him with something other than disdain or apathy for the first time that morning. Megatron studied him thoughtfully. “Would you like to see them?” he proposed, and the boy nodded. “Then do me a favor. Come with me to court this morning, and I'll read you some entries this afternoon.”

Starscream looked away. He knew his husband only wanted to distract him. Megatron usually found some excuse for keeping him nearby on very bad days. Part of him was grateful for this, but mostly he resented it. He didn't really want to feel better. But he was curious about the chronicles.

“All right,” he said with a shrug.

He went to court with the King and sat on his throne, which Megatron never used. Starscream thought that the most shameful thing ever in a King. The crowd of sumptuously dressed goblins cheered the boy's entrance, as they always did, and that perked him up a little. Even if they were monsters, it warmed something deep within him to be worshiped.

This morning, Megatron was working with the dwarves on building plans. Dwarves liked to build constantly in addition to their mining, and one of the hardest tasks of any goblin King was finding new projects for them without wrecking the beauty that previous generations had produced. Megatron had them building a series of terraces and balcony gardens up the almost sheer sides of the lake valley in order to increase the goblins' arable land. This offended the dwarves' sense of aesthetics. They did it, but they insisted that all the ramps and stairs connecting the balconies be decorated with elaborate traceries of wrought iron.

Court proceedings took place in goblin, but Megatron stopped what he was doing every now and then to tell Starscream what was going on. The boy looked at the work drawings together with the King and used his small stock of goblin speech on the dwarves standing nearby. Dwarves were terribly dignified, and Starscream had found he could make quite a deal of headway with them by putting on his very highest airs and graces. They made it well worth his while, too. Rings and bracelets covered his small hands, and they were forever bringing him more. Some of the jewelry was magical. His favorite bracelet was a triple rope of diamonds that sparkled with a clear light whenever he was in the dark.

That afternoon they went to Megatron's library. Starscream already knew it well. Here were the records from all the previous reigns since the founding of the kingdom under the Hill. Megatron showed him the King's Wife Chronicles. Fascinated, he paged through the old leather-bound volumes full of different handwriting styles as one King after another took up the tale. He couldn't read them because they were in goblin, but Megatron read a few entries to him. Then the King worked on some chronicling of his own as Starscream continued to look through the old books. While scholars did a certain amount of the record keeping, the Kings recorded much of their reigns themselves.

Starscream became interested in one particular story that he found. The handwriting was easy to read, and he found several script characters that he knew, including the King's Wife Charm, repeated quite frequently. So far, the charm had been nothing but a painted snake to him, and he wondered what it could have done.

“Megatron,” he said, coming over to his husband, “tell me about this one.” The goblin King glanced up from his own page to study the story for a minute. Then he looked at the boy with a shrewd smile and shook his head.

“Let's read it tomorrow,” he proposed.

Starscream's bad mood instantly returned. “You're keeping something from me,” he accused.

“I certainly am,” Megatron agreed. “That story. Today's not the day for it.”

Starscream sat down across from him. “You're treating me like a child,” he protested. “I went with you to court, and you promised to read these in return. I hate being read to like a child in the first place, and now you're hiding some secret as if I really am one. This is a story about a King's Wife, and I'm a King's Wife. I ought to know what it says.”

The goblin King studied him for a minute. “All right,” he said calmly, putting aside his own work, “but you're not happy about being a King's Wife right now, and this story isn't going to help. This is about the elf wife of a King who was four feet tall and dark green. The elf lived for only three years, and he tried to kill himself six different ways. The charm always saved him. One time he threw himself off our balcony into the lake valley, and the snake wound itself around a hook in the palace wall as they fell by.”

Starscream stared at him in horror. “Did he finally succeed?” he had to know.

Megatron scanned the pages. “No,” he said. “He died when the Heir was born. There were complications. His son weighed twenty pounds at birth.”

Starscream instantly felt as if he was going to be ill, but Megatron didn't seem to notice the change in his wife's demeanor. He was too busy scanning the pages of the Chronicle.

“This is nice,” he added. “His husband wrote a tribute to his determination and resourcefulness.”

Starscream jumped to his feet. “You people are just ghastly!” he cried. The goblin King shook his silvery hair out of his face and looked up at him with a smile. 

“Which ones of us?” he asked.

“All of you! You wife stealers!”

“I didn't steal you,” replied Megatron complacently.

“But you're just like that other King!”

Megatron chuckled as he shut the book. “No,” he retorted. “I'm not green.”

Starscream was beside himself. “You know what I mean!” he shouted, fighting back tears now. “You're one of them! The descendant of all those wife-stealing Kings!”

Megatron thought about that as the boy marched from the room. “I'm the descendant of all those wives, too,” he mused, but his own wife had already slammed the door.

Starscream roamed the stone gardens alone that evening, only growing increasingly agitated. When he went looking for his brother, he found that Skywarp had left with Thundercracker. Mindful of their elf blood, Megatron let them go outside at night, provided they stayed leashed together. He trusted Thundercracker to come home, but he wasn't so sure about Skywarp. The distraught Starscream took his brother's absence as a personal insult. How dare he come and go while Starscream was trapped down here! Feeling betrayed, he headed for the front door.

“Hello, King's Wife,” boomed the door politely but a little unhappily. It knew what these visits meant.

“Door,” Starscream addressed it haughtily. “Open up and let me through.”

“But you're the King's Wife,” protested the door.

“I know that, you half-baked slab of tin!” Starscream snapped. “Open up!”

“But you have the symbol on you,” the door added.

“I know that, too!” Starscream could feel it. The symbol was starting to smart.

“I can't open for the King's Wife,” explained the door ponderously.

“What if I was on the outside?” Starscream asked in sudden inspiration.

“But you're not,” the door cautiously answered.

“But I could be,” Starscream insisted.

“How?” asked the door. And this Starscream couldn't answer. He put his hand to his forehead as the letter began to throb.

“Let's say, just for the sake of argument, that I was on the outside,” he suggested.

“What does that mean?” the door wanted to know.

“It means that I say something, and then we argue about it,” explained Starscream through gritted teeth. “Assuming I'm on the outside, would you open then?”

“But you're not,” said the door triumphantly.

“For the sake of argument!” shouted the frustrated Starscream.

“I'm arguing,” said the door.

Megatron came up then and put his arms around his harried wife, pulling the boy’s hand away from his forehead and replacing it with his own much larger one. Under his soothing magical touch the pain slowly began to ebb.

“Do you know what's wrong, Star?” he asked, holding the boy. “The same thing that was wrong last month.”

“I swear,” Starscream hissed, “if you say  _ anything _ about my menstrual courses, I'll—”

“No, there's a full moon rising outside,” Megatron interrupted him, “and it's dancing night for the elves. You've known it all day, and it's making you miserable.”

Starscream started to protest that he wasn't an elf, but the longing for that full moon overwhelmed him. He thought of it rising above the forest, riding up the vast sky, silvering everything it touched with its beautiful light. The goblin King felt him droop in his arms, exhausted and discouraged.

“Poor little elf, locked up underground,” he said kindly. 

Starscream let his head fall forward into the King’s chest and began to sob. “I don’t want to die!” he finally let the words out in a painful wail.

“Whatever are you talking about?” Megatron asked in astonishment. “I know it’s difficult, but you aren’t going to die just because you’re separated from the moon and the stars, Star!”

Starscream shook his head. “No, our baby!” he choked. “I’ll die! I’ll die like that other elf wife! Like my mother and Clarity Bryht!”

“Goodness, Star, have you been thinking that this whole time?” The goblin King gasped, his grip on the boy suddenly tightening. “Star—my dear,  _ dear _ Star—you are not going to die in childbirth! We have magic for that!”

“But… but the wife in your book…”

“That was nearly two thousand years ago! Our magic has developed quite a bit since then, especially in that area,” Megatron explained. He took the boy by the shoulders and pushed him away slightly so that he could peer into his tearstained face. “Our wives don’t die in childbirth anymore. Haven’t for centuries. Not even the elves.”

Starscream blinked into his earnest, somewhat pained eyes.

“When you decide you’re ready to bear my son, I will be by your side the entire time,” Megatron assured him. “It will probably be difficult, but you are  _ not _ going to die. I swear to you on my own life—on my kingdom.”

“How… how can you be so sure?” the boy sniffed, and his husband’s expression softened.

“The lines on your hands,” the King reminded him. “A long life, they say. Goblins never lie, and goblin magic even less. Now, come on. You’ve had a long day. Let’s go to bed.”

* * *

Starscream lay in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling and feeling far less sleepy than he should, the whole of the day swirling through his mind in a frenzied haze. Megatron's right, he admitted to himself after a while. He didn't steal me. “Megatron?” he said softly, rolling to the edge of the bed to peer down at his husband lying on the floor beside him.

The goblin reached up to brush six fingers across the boy's cheek. “What is it?” he asked quietly.

“Do you write about me?” he asked. The goblin nodded. “What kinds of things do you write?”

“The same sorts of things as the other Kings,” he said. “What you love about your new life, what you hate.”

“I don't love anything about it,” Starscream frowned, even as he leaned into his husband's touch.

“Sure you do,” Megatron contradicted. “It hasn't been very long, but I think you love coming with me to my workroom.”

Starscream thought about that. As the realm's greatest magician, the goblin King worked magic all the time, whether he was healing illness, supporting building projects, or making sure the correct weather occurred. Sitting on his high stool, Starscream watched him preparing and mixing things, and Megatron showed him odd bits of magic as he studied and practiced. The boy enjoyed the magic; it was another one of the things he was starting to appreciate about his unusual husband. The workroom was like a refuge to him. It was almost the only place in the entire kingdom where no one was watching him.

“Well... I don't  _ hate _ the workroom,” he conceded. “What  _ do _ I hate about my new life?”

“Being locked in,” his husband answered. “Being stared at, being teased.”

“If you know I hate being teased,” he pouted, “why do you always do it?”

“Because that's one of the new things about your new life that  _ I _ love,” he chuckled. Starscream felt his stomach swoop pleasantly. “And I write about the milestones that the Kings look for their wives to pass. The first time you spoke to me—that was when you met me. The first time you called me by name—that was the day after you came here. The first time you smiled at me—that was a week after you came here, but the first time you smiled because you were really glad to see me—that was only a month ago. The first time you were happy when you woke up in the morning, full of plans you wanted to accomplish...” He fell silent.

“When was that?” Starscream wanted to know.

“That one hasn't happened yet,” he admitted.

Starscream shifted to take the goblin's hand in both of his own, running his fingers over the knots and veins of the large appendage.

“There is another first we've yet to have,” he spoke carefully after a moment.

“And what’s that?” Megatron murmured, low in the darkness.

“Don’t you think it’s about time we consummated our marriage?” Starscream asked, his mouth going dry as the words left it.

Megatron’s fingers twined through his, holding him tight, but the King did not answer at first. “I am not sure that today is the best day for it.”

“I do,” Starscream disagreed. He took the King’s hand and brought it to his chest, splaying the big fingers across the soft skin above his heart. There was a shifting and rustling of cloth, and suddenly Megatron was kneeling before him, their eyes level with one another.

“Do you now?” he asked, and there was a breathless, almost strangled quality to his voice that Starscream couldn’t recall having heard there before. “And why’s that?”

“Because I’m not afraid that showing you how much I want you will result in my death anymore.”

Megatron growled, low in his throat, and a hand found the back of Starscream’s neck, pulling him in so that the King could kiss him. Starscream reached up and wrapped his arms around the goblin’s twisted shoulders, his heart pounding in his throat as the hand that he had been holding slid down his body to find his thigh.

“How much you want me,” Megatron breathed against his mouth. “Dear God, Star, it isn’t fair what you do to me.”

And then he was climbing up onto the bed with his wife, kissing the boy into the mattress, shifting his nightdress aside with carefully restrained enthusiasm.

“Am I really beautiful?” Starscream asked him.

“Starscream Quaesit, empires could topple for your beauty,” Megatron told him, one warm hand resting on the boy’s taut belly and the other stroking the dark hair back from his face. “There aren’t words in any language to tell you how I felt when I saw you under the stars that first night. Even less so how I felt when you walked into my kingdom of your own will and demanded with fire in your eyes that I help you destroy another man.”

“Do you love me, then?” Starscream wanted to know. “Not for what I can give you and your people, but just as me. Do you?”

“Yes,” Megatron answered without hesitation. “I want the son you’ll bear me, yes, but if you never managed to, I would still die honored to have had you as my Wife.”

“Your people would be over if you died without an heir,” Starscream reminded him, his heart so full he was amazed it could still fit in his chest.

“It is fortunate, then, that it does not seem our marriage will come to such an end,” Megatron told him, the hand on Starscream’s stomach sliding lower and the boy let out a small, eager gasp as his husband touched him for the first time.

Starscream had no idea what it might have been like to lie with a human man, only that, as the evening progressed, he was becoming increasingly enthusiastic about the idea of doing it with his goblin husband. He had felt emphatically over the previous months that he’d rather not know if Megatron had ever gotten to this point with his previous wife, but now he felt rather that, if they had, then he would have to offer some form of thanks to the poor boy for giving their King the practice. 

It was sometime in the early hours of the next morning as Starscream lay, spent and sated and happier than he’d been in ages, feeling his husband’s sweat-slicked chest heaving against his back that he let out a contented sigh and asked, “How much trying exactly does it usually take for a goblin to conceive a child?”

“As much trying as you want,” Megatron hummed into his damp hair.

Starscream smiled sleepily. “I look forward to it.”


	12. Chapter Eleven

One day, a year and a half after his marriage, Starscream was sitting with the older pages and hearing their English lesson. Megatron had asked him early on to help the pages improve their English because the most human-looking goblins, posing as Gypsies, made frequent trading journeys outside the kingdom to sell watches and jewelry. This allowed them to buy silks, laces, and other luxury items, including the excellent tea that Megatron enjoyed.

Starscream's father, overseeing his education, had spent much time on literature, and the goblins had a great deal more passion for it than their King’s Wife ever had. Still, it was easy enough to have them sit and read books and plays with each other while he listened and made corrections. Since the older pages already had an excellent grasp of English, he had given them a copy of  _ Romeo and Juliet _ to pass around, and their grotesque faces were all twisted into the solemnest of expressions over the plight of the star-crossed lovers. Starscream wasn't quite sure they fully understood that this was fiction. As opposed to lying as they were, goblins spent all of their own artistic efforts on retelling and representing scenes from their own history, after all.

When Starscream looked up to see a member of the King's Guard at the door, he was only too happy to dismiss the pages. The guard's round eyes were large with concern, and he was clacking his beak in agitation. “Hulk is missing,” he told the young man, “and the King needs your help at the water mirror.”

Starscream considered the news as they hurried along. The feathered ape was so large that he couldn't imagine anything harming him. Surely it wouldn't turn out to be serious. They entered the big cavern to find Megatron, his lieutenants, and a number of the Guard already there.

“I need to find Hulk with the water mirror, Star,” the King explained, “but it's too bright for me to see now that the sun is up. We need you to look with your daylight eyes and tell us something about where he is.” Then he turned to the lapping sheet of water and held out his hand. The room blazed with light, and the goblins shielded their eyes. Starscream squinted at the unaccustomed brightness, his own eyes now more used to the twilight than the sun, but he could see more than the others.

“It looks like it might be a closed wagon or carriage,” he said finally. “I think those are horses at the front. It's moving, and the land around it is flat. I think there's water by the road. A big river, maybe. Not a lake. It's very blurry.” He looked away as the mirror went dark again, his eyes watering.

“It's blurry because it's far away,” said Megatron. “It's well past the edges of my land. When I looked for Hulk earlier, I couldn't see him at all because something was blocking or hiding him. Someone has kidnapped him, probably with a trap because Hulk's too big to take by force. I suspect that magic was used to hide him, and the trap that caught him must have had some magic built into it as well. And now he's being moved in daylight when we can't counterattack. Who has him and why? Has anyone new been on the land?”

“No one has been in the hill area,” said Shockwave, who with Barricade was one of the two lieutenants. Shockwave, although man shaped, had hands that looked like bird talons. He had no nose at all, just two holes in his face, and only one large eye above them. “No one has come or gone from the estate grounds in the last several days. It may be that the intruder stayed in the Hollow Lake village. We don't monitor the traffic past the three roads there. Hulk was patrolling the lakefront last night, so he would have been close to the village.”

The goblin King thought for a moment. “Bulk,” he said, turning to Hulk's brother, “do you think you could fly in the bright light?” The ape, yellow eyes anxious, nodded quickly. Both apes could change to a bird form that could stand the daylight. Thundercracker was another who could venture outside at any time, his cat eyes suited to either daylight or darkness. “Good,” said Megatron decisively. Turning to Starscream, he asked, “Are you sure there were no hills? That the land was flat?”

“As certain as I can be with your shoddy spellwork,” Starscream sniffed, and then at his husband's serious expression, supplied more helpfully: “None that I could see, but I couldn't see very far. There may have been hills farther away.”

“Probably the Liverpool road,” suggested Barricade when Megatron shot him an inquiring glance. “But if that's the case, they've been traveling for hours and making good time.”

“I was afraid of that,” said Megatron grimly. “My guess is that they started moving Hulk well before his watch was over. By the time we noticed him missing, he was probably at the edge of our land. Bulk, I can put you on the outskirts of the Hollow Lake village. Follow the Liverpool road as fast as you can to see if you can catch them. If you do catch up, stay with them as a bird. If you don't come back at twilight, we'll follow you. I should be able to track you as we move. Hulk will probably be hidden again after sunset, just as he was on our land. That's difficult magic,” he added absently, eyes distant for a moment.

Bulk shimmered as he turned into a large, ugly bird, and Megatron stepped to the water mirror.

“Star, I need your help again,” he said, taking his wife's hand. “You'll have to tell me what I'm doing.”

The mirror blazed, and Starscream squinted into it. “It's the crossroads by the inn,” he reported, and then, as it shifted, “we're following the lakeshore road away from the Hill. We've passed all the houses. Now the road is leaving the shore. There's a large oak tree on the right side.”

“That's it,” said Megatron, one hand shielding his eyes. “Bulk, if you can't find them by the time the sun starts westering, come back so you can report at twilight.” With a clack of his beak, Bulk took off into the mirror. Starscream watched him soar into the sky over the road.

The mirror went dark again, and the goblins turned back to their King. He had done all he could for the moment. Now he pondered his next move, running his fingers through his silver hair as he turned the details over in his mind.

“I need Barricade and Brindle to go to the inn tonight and find out who's been through. Barricade, see if you can get Hairy Bounce to drink with you back in the stables. He knows all the gossip. And if Hulk was caught in a trap, I would suspect that several were placed and that the enemy may have left the others behind. It would help tremendously if I could see one, and they're a constant danger till they're found. Turn out all the Guard to hunt for traps in a wide sweep of the lakeshore from the village around to the Hill.

“Shockwave, we'll need a fast and magical force ready if Bulk doesn't return at twilight. I think it had better be you, me, Onslaught, and Blitzwing. Two horses for each goblin and light packs. I leave their contents up to you. Plan for a pursuit of four days. Barricade, if you learn something interesting, follow us. We'll stay with the road, pitch tents at sunrise, and leave markers if we take a turning. Bring the trap with you if you find one.

“All of you spend today sleeping,” he concluded, “and if you can't sleep, send word to me. I need you ready for tonight. Barricade, on your way to your rooms, tell the pages to gather the Scholars in the library.”

The sober goblins filed out. Megatron continued to stand by the water mirror for another moment.

“You know,” Starscream ventured, “the Guard really shouldn't come in so close to dawn. You don't even find out if someone's missing until the sun's about to rise. It gives you no time to react.”

“Do you know, Star,” his husband said thoughtfully, “I do believe you're right. We should be doing cross-checks of the guards at regular intervals throughout the night, and they should come in at least an hour earlier. I don't know why I didn't think of it before.”

“Has a guard ever been missing before?” asked Starscream, following as Megatron walked toward the library.

“No,” said the goblin, “that's just it. No member of the King's Guard has been attacked in my reign. We've gotten sloppy now that the elves are gone. Well,” he amended, glancing at his wife, “almost gone.” He gave a wry smile. “I think the guards felt they were mainly out on botany detail.”

The Scholars began filling the library. There were eight goblins, four female, three male, and one androgyne. Several of them were very old, but not all were, and none of them showed their years. Goblins didn't usually age. They simply grew up.

“Aside from skirmishes with elves,” Megatron asked the assembled Scholars, “has a member of the King's Guard ever been kidnapped before?”

There was silence while they considered this.

One Scholar had long fangs, like Barricade, and was clicking them with a fingernail while he thought. “About two hundred years ago,” he said, “a goblin guard changed to wolf form was caged for a local hunt. Does that help?”

“Not really,” answered Megatron. “We have a member of the Guard kidnapped in his regular goblin form by an enemy who has used magic to hide him and probably used magic to help trap him. Now the enemy is moving him rapidly away from our land in the daylight and across fields. I want to know if anything like it has ever happened before.”

“During the day and across fields,” one commented thoughtfully. “That rules out any elves we may not know of,” and she glanced in Starscream's direction. Starscream frowned. He still didn't like being thought of as an elf.

“Yes, it's not elves,” said Megatron patiently. The Scholars always rethought things that he had already told them, but he tried not to let it annoy him. He knew they worked better when they didn't feel rushed.

“In the time of my study, there were a number of kidnappings,” said a very small goblin, almost a gnome. “But none involved magic.”

“There was something like it in my time,” said another. “That was in the reign of Marak Horsetooth. A sorcerer from Rome who had studied texts from Egypt kidnapped a goblin using magic. The King freed him and turned the sorcerer into a toad. Then he stepped on him.”

Starscream nodded approvingly. Goblin revenge was one of his favorite things about this society he'd found himself in, after their fabulous fashion sense, that was.

“I'd like to see that text,” said Megatron. There was another moment of silence.

“I believe I remember something useful,” said the androgyne. His skin was a dark silver-gay, and he had white hair. Starscream admired the way he always managed to command the attention of everyone in the room at once no matter what he was saying. Megatron could have told him that he was just identifying with another strong elf cross.

“In the old country,” continued the elvish goblin, “there were pagan priests who used magic to hunt goblins. That was one factor, along with the elf migration, that led to our leaving the land.”

“Hunting,” mused Megatron. “How? And why?”

“I believe with traps,” he answered. “They used the goblin blood to work magic, to lure the demons and buy favors. I'll show you the texts as soon as I find them.”

“Blood,” echoed Megatron pensively.

Starscream thought of Hulk. For a long time after he'd come to this kingdom, he couldn't stand the ape with his sad patient eyes and permanent silence, but Hulk was one of his most diligent admirers amongst the Guard, going to great lengths to collect interesting rocks and plants for Starscream whenever he was out on duty. Perhaps he had stepped into a trap trying to reach one. He felt a wave of possessive anger at whoever had set that trap. Who did he think he was, stealing Starscream's loyal subjects?

“Star, I need you to help me with ingredients,” the goblin King said as they left the library. In the workroom, he walked to his spell books and ran a finger across their spines.

“If Bulk doesn't come back, I have to take whatever I'll need with me. I think I'm facing a human adversary, but that also means a demon adversary, according to my training. The human thinks he controls the demon and has him as a servant. Really, the demon has made promises to the human in exchange for certain payments, and he collects the human's soul upon death.

“My problem is how to fight the two of them,” declared Megatron. “The demon is quite beyond my abilities. Demons are very powerful, and they love destruction and pain. They would enjoy making a goblin suffer. But this one wants his sorcerer's soul. If the man dies soon enough, the demon will be satisfied, so I need spells that kill, and kill quickly.”

Megatron brought several books over to the writing desk and made a list of the desired spells. Starscream could read goblin pretty well now, and he found himself peering eagerly at the list, curious to know what the spells would do.

All that day Starscream found, measured, and pounded ingredients. Meanwhile, Megatron copied and learned the spells. Late in the afternoon, he mixed the ingredients his wife had prepared into the potions he needed. Then he finally lay down to rest up for the night ahead. But Bulk came back at sundown. He had flown for so many hours, Megatron had to treat his arms with salve, but he hadn't found the wagon that held his brother.

Starscream woke the next morning to find Megatron already up. The Guard had returned with a trap, and the Scholars were examining it. To Starscream, it looked like an ordinary wolf trap with symbols on it, but Megatron was very grim. He refused to touch it with his bare hands.

“The writing is Egyptian,” he told the young man. “You'd think we're far enough from the old lands to be safe from their spells, but more and more humans are traveling back and forth these days.”

Barricade reported that a man had come from Liverpool to do some hunting, bringing a closed wagon and two drivers with him. Hairy Bounce said the drivers didn't know much about their employer, but he had hired them to drive him in shifts without resting along the way, renting fresh teams of horses to avoid slowing down. He had left very early the previous morning, and everyone agreed that he had been terribly peculiar, but they were sorry he was gone because he had spent a great deal of money. “Liverpool,” sighed Megatron. “Such a grimy place. It's enough to put you right off humans.”

At twilight, the small band of goblins prepared once more to embark, and Starscream was with them in the stable room to see them off. Megatron gave Barricade a long list of instructions. Starscream realized, listening, that it was a risky thing for a magical kingdom to have its greatest magician leave. Now the group was standing idle and waiting impatiently for Shockwave. He had not arrived with the others, and they had sent Thundercracker after him. They were wasting time, and Starscream could see that Megatron was becoming angry. His hands were clasped behind his back, something he often did when he wanted to be sure not to work rash magic.

Thundercracker came racing into the stable in cat form. His black fur was standing out, and his tail was puffed. “Shockwave is sick!” he shrieked. “He's asleep!”

“Asleep?” echoed Megatron, staring. “Asleep where?”

“I found him in his rooms,” squeaked the cat, “and he was lying in the middle of the floor, sleeping. I couldn't wake him up.” Megatron didn't comment. He was still staring into space, thinking hard.

“But that makes no sense,” growled Onslaught. “He knew we were waiting for him.”

“The sorcerer is home,” murmured Megatron. “Poor Hulk. I can't leave now, and I don't think I'd be in time anyway.”

Shockwave didn't seem asleep, thought Starscream when he saw him. He seemed dead. He was barely breathing, and he didn't move at all. Megatron examined him carefully.

“He isn't asleep,” he said quietly. “He's been called away. His spirit is enslaved, and his body's been left behind to take care of itself. Thundercracker, run downstairs and have the Guard called in. Tell them no one is to go outside.”

Back in his workroom, Megatron leafed quickly through book after book, gritting his sharp teeth impatiently.

“Are you looking for a way to break the spell?” Starscream asked.

“No!” he answered with a short, bitter laugh. “I can't break that spell, not without breaking Shockwave, too. I'm looking for a way to keep him alive.” When Starscream left him to go to sleep, he was still looking, but he woke his wife in the morning and held out a book triumphantly.

“I've found it!” he said. “We have something to feed them. We can keep them alive.”

“Them?” Starscream echoed groggily, sitting up.

“Them,” said Megatron. “The count is up to twelve.”

All day the count rose, and they put the sleepers on pallets in the banquet hall. Barricade and Bulk both slept there now, along with most of the Guard, and Megatron could do nothing to stop it. He spent a hectic morning shifting assignments as people fell asleep and teaching the cooks how to prepare the special concoction that would keep the sleepers alive. By the afternoon, the count was up to fifty.

“Sooner or later, the sorcerer will have to stop calling goblins away,” Megatron told Starscream. They stood in the banquet hall, looking at the sleepers, goblins hurrying to and fro ministering to the quiet forms. “When that happens, he may come back for another goblin to use, and we can catch him. But if he doesn't, we can go after him once we're sure he's not going to enchant someone on the road.”

“Why will the sorcerer have to stop calling goblins?” Starscream asked, thinking that he certainly wouldn't if he had the means to summon a magical army all his own.

“Because he'll run out of blood,” Megatron said harshly. “He's using Hulk's blood to call our blood and bind these goblins into slavery. And he's taking my best!” he snarled in a rage. “The highest families, the most magical, the most goblin!” He glared out over the silent crowd in an agony of frustration, his silver curls beginning to blow about his face in a wind of their own. Starscream took his hand, and the wind gradually died down. Megatron stood looking at his enchanted subjects and idly running his thumb up and down the King's Line scar on Starscream’s palm. Suddenly he squeezed the young man's hand so tightly that Starscream cried out in pain.

“The skip, Star!” he shouted. “The skip!”

He whirled on the ministering goblins, barking out orders faster than Starscream could decipher them. Goblins began scattering in all directions, running. Airachnia showed up in a minute, and Thundercracker a moment later. Megatron beckoned them to his side.

“I expect to be one of the sleepers soon,” he said, and Starscream drew a sharp intake of breath. “I hope I'm wrong, but if I sleep, you know what will happen. The lights will go out and the weather will change. Our kingdom will be destroyed. Thundercracker, you're the most magical one left, and I know he won't enslave you”—he hesitated—“because you're not goblin enough.” The boy flinched as if he'd been struck. “Thundercracker, I need you to work the Kingdom Spells while I'm away. Dayan will bring you the book, and she can help you with the schedule. Don't keep the lamps lit during the night anymore, and don't try to light the valley. Don't try to work the Rain Spell every three days, either. Every six days will be fine. Gauge yourself, Thundercracker. Don't wear yourself out. I don't know how long you'll have to do this, but I know that I can count on you.” Starscream looked at the young elf. Thundercracker had grown taller this year, His face, pale at the first from the insult, went paler still at the commands.

Megatron turned to his former nurse. “He won't call you, either, old dwarf,” he said affectionately. Her black eyes twinkled up at him. “Keep us alive, Airachnia. You're in charge of the doors. Don't let anyone out till the call stops, and organize the Guard as best you can out of whoever is left.

“Star, come with me,” he said urgently, taking his wife's hand and pulling the young man along with him. “I'm going to let you out.” Starscream had to trot to keep up with his rapid strides as they hurried down the hallways.

“Out?” he wondered. “What do you mean, out? Why?”

“Because you'll be trapped down here when the lamps go out because Thundercracker can't keep them lit anymore, and the winds howl through, and the crops all die, and everybody leaves. You'll be trapped feeding potions to a sleeping husband. A long life!” He gave a bitter laugh. “A long life in the dark.”

Starscream felt a stab of fear and an even more painful stab of hope. Out! Was it even possible?

“But how can you?” he whispered.

“There's a spell for it,” Megatron said grimly. “Only the King can work it. He has to be able to take his wife with him if there's a disaster.”

Starscream felt dizzy. “But the King's Wife—”

“Is supposed to have a King!” Megatron snarled. “A husband and a son. Not a living corpse, and that's what I'll be, and I'll be one for a long time. Do you think I want you chained down here just to watch at my bedside? Do you think I brought you underground for this?!”

“But I want to stay with you,” he faltered, and when he said it, he knew it was the truth. Megatron knew it, too. He stopped walking, stunned.

“It's all right, Star,” he said quietly, squeezing the young man's hand. “I won't even be here.”

Once in the workroom, he went into a frenzy, scrabbling through books and tossing them to the floor. “Here it is!” he cried at last. “Star, quick, help me. I need some kind of liquid—the red bottle over there will do.” Starscream fetched it. “And my paintbrushes are in the little bottom drawer on the right.” He retrieved a paintbrush. “Now we need the erasing part. Bring me the powdered lead.”

“I can't reach it,” said Starscream, looking up at the shelf. “Can you get it for me?” And then, when there was no step to his side, “Megatron, can you get it?”

The goblin King pitched forward on his face over the spell book. Starscream caught him as he collapsed onto the floor. His eyes were still open, but they were glassy. Starscream tried to jump up to get help, but Megatron's hand gripped his, and his gaze found the young man's face.

“Don't go,” he whispered, staring at his wife. “If you go, I go.” Starscream stared back, stricken. “I have to fight him,” Megatron muttered. “For my wife and son.”

“We don't have a son,” whispered Starscream.

“We would have.” He smirked. “A great one.” He started to relax, and his hand loosened its grip. Then he struggled back. “What a son,” he whispered. Starscream wasn't sure the King could see him anymore.

“Star!” Megatron hissed. “Star!”

“What is it?” he asked, bending close. Megatron stared about, looking for him, and slowly focused on him again.

“No King ever had such a wife,” he whispered. He began to go limp. “My wife and son,” he murmured. “My wife and son.” His eyes closed. Starscream waited a long moment, then two, then three, but the King didn't move. Megatron had joined the sleepers.

Starscream laid him down carefully and climbed to his feet, shaking all over. As he turned to get help, he saw the book still open to the spell that would have freed him. Only the King could work it, and the King was gone. He looked down at the scars in his hands.

A long life, they told him. A long life alone in the dark.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some graphic and potentially disturbing imagery in this chapter and the next.

Starscream sat by Megatron's pallet in the banquet hall, oblivious to everything around him. He didn't cry, and he didn't move. He stared at the inhuman monster who had teased him, worked magic on him, and dragged him down into this place for the sake of an entire race of monsters. Well, he thought grimly, looking at the slight frown on the King's still face, Megatron wouldn't laugh at him ever again. And if he didn't, Starscream didn't think he would be able to bear it.

He saw clearly what Megatron had refused to tell the others: that he didn't think the goblins could save themselves without him. The sorcerer would come back, and he would enslave the rest. Thundercracker would be occupied with the Kingdom Spells, and no one else had the magic to stand against the sorcerer. One by one the goblins would fall asleep until there was no one left but Starscream and the dwarves. Megatron would eventually die, and then the goblins' magic would be lost forever.

Starscream had never really wanted that son Megatron had longed for. He hadn't wanted to cry over a goblin baby and its awful deformities. But now he would be thrilled to know he was going to have a hideous goblin baby. Such a child would mean hope for the whole kingdom, and would be Megatron's son and his. Starscream smiled in bitter amazement at his own stupidity. How had he ever thought he could cry at the sight of Megatron's son?

Night came, and the lights flickered out. Starscream's dwarf-made diamond bracelet flared to brightness. In its magical light, Megatron looked as if he were already dead. Starscream couldn't stand it any longer.

We don't have a King or an Heir to save us, he concluded firmly, but I'm not going to spend the rest of my life down here feeding potions to a sleeping husband. If he can fight for his wife and son, then I can fight for my husband. That sorcerer's outside in the world that I know. I'm not afraid of monsters, I'm not afraid of magic, and I'm certainly not afraid of him.

He got up and went to find Airachnia.

“Star,” called a voice behind him, and he turned to see Skywarp with a lantern in his hand and a goblin baby in each arm.

“Warp, what are you doing here?” Starscream asked.

“The pages volunteered to watch the children whose parents are asleep,” said Skywarp. “I have six babies up in my room right now. But Mongrel and Lash wanted to kiss their mommies and daddies good night, didn't they?” he said in baby-talk to the little goblins. “Actually Mongrel gave his mother more of a lick,” he confided. The fuzzy, floppy-eared goblin looked up at Skywarp with his big brown eyes and gave him a swipe on the cheek. “That's my boy.” He smiled down at the baby. “Aren't they the cutest things?”

“I suppose,” murmured Starscream, ruffling Lash's feathers. “Warp,” he said, hesitating. “I don't know—nothing may happen, but I may—”

“You're going to bring them back, aren't you?” said Skywarp.

“How did you know?” Starscream blinked.

“I already told all the pages you would,” he said. “You've never been afraid of anything. Besides, you already know your way around Liverpool; you were there once for three days.”

“It's hardly that simple, Warp!” spluttered Starscream.

“I never said it was,” replied Skywarp carelessly, “but I know you can do it. Good luck.” He leaned against his brother in an armless hug for a moment, and Mongrel stretched up to give him a damp swipe on the cheek. “Bring me back a box of that almond brittle like you did last time. Now, let's go find Lash's mommy.” And with that Skywarp walked off, leaving Starscream to stare after him in stunned disbelief.

Airachnia was bustling about the darkened banquet hall with a pot of Megatron's concoction in one hand and a lantern in the other. Her wrinkled old face was wet with tears.

“Airachnia,” Starscream said urgently, “I have to talk to you.” The dwarf woman motioned for him to sit down on a pallet.

“Old Mandrake won't mind,” she sighed, casting a glance at the elderly goblin laid out on it.

“I need to go after the sorcerer,” Starscream explained. “No one else can. I know that world, it's my world, and I can travel in the daylight. I'm well protected, too. Megatron said once that I was better protected by my charm than he was by his magic.”

Airachnia stirred the concoction for a minute while she considered this plan. “You're right, my lord,” she said. “You're the best one to go. You've a powerful lot of magic in you, as I should know better than most. You used it on me once to get away, and oh! Was Megatron mad at me!”

Starscream remembered the meeting in the forest when the old dwarf had glued his feet to the ground. “I didn't use magic at all,” he protested. “You just gave us a sporting chance.”

“Be sporting to the King's Bride?” Airachnia chuckled. “You know better than that. There's nothing sporting about it, dear, nothing at all. No, you worked a fine persuasion spell on me, and being mostly dwarf, I fell for it right away.” She sighed again. “The King always used to do it, too, when he wanted to get out of his lessons. No, you're right, you must go, dear. What a day it will be when the elves save the goblins after all!”

“But I can't get past the door,” Starscream pointed out. Airachnia turned to look at him, black eyes thoughtful.

“You'll have to talk to the snake,” she decided.

“What snake?”

“That one, dear,” said Airachnia, pointing to the golden coils above his neckline.

“Oh!” said Starscream, taken aback. “It can talk?”

“Yes, but not many know it. It only talks to the King ceremonially, but sometimes a King's Wife comes along that it'll talk to. I don't even know if the Kings know.”

“Megatron never mentioned it,” murmured Starscream, “but then, he only ever brings the thing up to tease me because he knows how much I hate it. How do you know, Airachnia?”

To his surprise, the little woman began to chuckle. She rocked back and forth in quiet mirth. “Oh, because of the King's mother, Sunwave. He got in more trouble! If you told him he should try flying, he'd have jumped out a window just to see. He wore that poor thing out. And they talked. I used to hear them sometimes when I was looking after the baby. It's terribly old, that snake, and it's seen everything. If anyone can get you out and save the King, it'll be the snake.”

“But how do I talk to it?” asked Starscream, nonplussed. “It's been nothing but paint for the last year and a half.”

“I don't know,” said Airachnia slowly. “The only time I know it wakes up is when you're in real, right-now danger. If you do something dangerous, that'll wake it up.”

“But then it'll bite me,” Starscream pointed out.

Airachnia sighed. She picked up her spoon and stirred the pot again. “I don't know, dear,” she admitted finally. “It's your snake.”

Starscream thought about this. “All right,” he said gloomily. “I'm off to stab myself. If it bites me, you can put me down here next to Megatron and feed us both that nasty concoction until the King wakes up and renders judgment. Which he may never do, but I don't think I have much of a choice.”

“Good luck, my pretty boy,” said Airachnia, ignoring this and patting him on the hand, and she went back to her work as Starscream stalked out of the hall.

A few minutes later, Starscream sat at his dressing table, staring at himself by the light of his bracelet. He had taken a small knife out of Megatron's workroom, and he looked at it doubtfully. How much danger was enough? What if the snake bit him? Would he sleep, too, or would he still be awake even though he was paralyzed? 

Starscream shuddered. Best to get on with it before I lose my nerve, he thought. He lifted the knife and moved it slowly toward his chest.

Starscream heard a metallic zing, and the head of the golden snake reared up before his face. He dropped the knife, staring into those golden eyes.

“Don't bite me, don't bite me!” he cried frantically.

The snake studied his face, weaving back and forth. It flicked its golden tongue out as it gazed regally at him.

“What are you doing, King's Wife?” it hissed softly. “I have guarded one hundred and sixty-seven King's Wives before you. You are the one hundred and sixty-eighth. Before today, fifty-four King's Wives had tried to kill themselves. You are the fifty-fifth.”

“I wasn't trying to kill myself,” snapped Starscream. “I'm in danger.”

“You put yourself in danger,” hissed the snake. “You had a knife. Twenty-eight King's Wives have tried to kill themselves with knives. One, with a two-headed battle-ax.”

“Ugh.” Starscream grimaced. “I wasn't going to do anything with the knife. I just wanted to talk to you.”

The snake twined down Starscream's left arm and turned from his wrist to get a better look at him. “If you wanted to talk to me,” it hissed, “why didn't you just do it?”

“Well,” Starscream began, and then realized that he had no answer. The snake studied him.

“I have guarded one hundred and sixty-eight King's Wives,” it hissed. “Sixty-four of them were unintelligent. Two of them were so stupid they didn't know their own names.”

“I see,” said Starscream coldly. “But wait! I need your help. The King has been enchanted by a sorcerer. I know where the sorcerer is, and I need to go find him, but I can't get out the door.”

The snake studied him for another long moment, weaving slightly. “I must see the King,” it hissed. “Only eight King's Wives have left the kingdom. Four of those were on the migration. For two more, the Kings erased the Door Spell. Your King,” it said softly, “has not done that.”

“He ran out of time,” Starscream answered impatiently. He walked back to the banquet hall, explaining the last few days' events on the way. He stopped at Megatron's pallet, his heart sinking again at the sight of his husband's motionless form.

The snake uncoiled almost all the way in order to glide back and forth across the King, keeping only the smallest loop about Starscream's wrist. At last it returned, twining quickly up his arm and rearing its head above his shoulder.

“The King is not here,” it hissed very quietly. “He is far away. Too far for me to find.”

“I know where he is,” said Starscream decisively. “I need to go free him. Unless he comes back, there won't be another King. Or,” he said wickedly, “a one-hundred-and-sixty-ninth King's Wife.”

The golden snake looped itself about his neck and slowly traveled down the other arm. Starscream didn't exactly care for the feeling.

“Even if there is another King,” it hissed, “he will not be King for long. The sorcerer will enslave him, too, and there will be no more King's Wives. I think you must take me to this sorcerer. He is a danger to my Wives.”

“Can you make the door open?” asked Starscream.

“No,” it whispered, “I would not make the door open to let out the King's Wife. It would break. There would be no door, and there is no Guard. We will leave by the water mirror.”

“Really?” asked Starscream excitedly. “Can you make it work?”

“No,” hissed the snake. “You can.”

Starscream stared. “Of course I can't!” he said indignantly. “I can't do that kind of thing.”

“You're an elf,” said the snake, buzzing slightly. “Ninety-nine of the King's Wives have been elves. You can certainly operate the water mirror.”

“Even if I have elf magic,” Starscream protested, “the King says it's locked fighting the Door Spell.”

The golden snake twirled gracefully, studying the red burn on his forehead.

“Why do you need to fight the door?” it asked softly.

“Because I never wanted to be here,” explained Starscream. “I wanted to leave.”

“We are leaving,” hissed the snake, “but not by the door.”

“Oh,” said Starscream flatly, his cheeks flushing with the embarrassment of not having thought of this himself. The snake surveyed him with its slitted eyes.

“Sixty-four of the King's Wives have not been very bright,” it whispered. “The Wife of the last King was a blithering idiot.”

“Yes, I think you told me that already,” said Starscream, tight-lipped. He squeezed Megatron's cold hand good-bye and headed to the water mirror.

The snake explained that Starscream must think of a place on goblin land and spread the scene on the water like a blanket. Starscream tried and tried, but nothing happened. A couple of times, the water changed color, but that was all.

“Twelve of the King's Wives have had trouble with their magic,” said the snake softly. “One of them set his own hair on fire trying to light his tiara with a sparkle charm.”

“Good for him,” snapped Starscream. He was getting tired and very frustrated. But he noticed that in spite of his frustration, his burn didn't hurt him at all.

“Do you know the land above ground well?” hissed the snake. “You must be able to see it exactly as it is.”

“I didn't live there very long,” he admitted. “Maybe I just can't picture it clearly. Wait!” he said. “I know what I can picture.” He went to the workroom to study the star charts, comparing the charts to the stars' positions in his mind. Then he hurried back to the mirror. Hand outstretched and eyes closed, he pictured the stars above goblin land, and when he opened his eyes, there they were, rippling in the lapping water. He could see the half-moon and the great jewels of the planets. With a happy cry, he sprang at the mirror to escape the underground, ignoring the snake's warning buzz. He felt the cool bubble of the water surface stretch against him and then break.

Something was horribly wrong. No ground was under his feet. He was ice-cold and he could barely move. He opened his stinging eyes, and there were the stars, still rippling and shining. Bubbles poured out of his mouth. They rose toward the stars, and Starscream struggled with all his might to follow them.

In another instant, he broke the surface of Hollow Lake, splashing and gasping. He just had time to glimpse the village lights not far away before he went back under. He bobbed back up to the surface, thrashing frantically.

“Hold your breath!” buzzed a voice in his ear. Starscream gasped in a great breath and held it. This time, when he went under, he didn't go down very far. “Now go limp,” directed the buzzing, “and look at the stars.” Starscream rolled onto his back in the water, staring at the stars, and a rope around his neck began to tug him along. It was the snake, swimming furiously, throwing itself back and forth across the water and filling it with bubbles.

Starscream stared up at the night sky, unaware of his danger or of the supremely annoyed snake who was saving him from it. He couldn't look at the stars enough. After a minute, he had to let out his breath, but this time he didn't panic, and he was ready to take in another breath when he bobbed back up.

After several more breaths, the snake buzzed ungraciously, “You aren't in danger anymore, King's Wife. You can walk now.” It drooped about the young man's neck as he splashed around, feeling for his footing. “I have guarded one hundred and sixty-eight King's Wives,” it buzzed like an enraged bee. “I have saved ten of them from drowning. I saved one Wife from a bucket. I saved another from the Flood. But I never saved a single one from walking into the middle of a lake before. You are the very first. When you operate the water mirror and use the stars to guide you, please be sure you are seeing them as they look from dry land and not as they look under ten feet of water.”

Starscream, wet and chilled, scrambled up the crumbly shoreline, his clothes and shoes covered in sandy silt. He shivered in the cold wind blowing over the lake, but despite that he had never been so happy before. The entire vast sky was above him. Moonlight flooded him, inside and out. He thought he could probably fly.

“You are in danger, King's Wife!” buzzed the infuriated snake. “In danger of catching pneumonia.” But Starscream ignored his unusual companion as he squelched toward the village.

He slept the remainder of that night in an old woman's cottage. Those wide eyes took one look at his lavish jewelry, his elven beauty, and his painted golden snake, and they drew their own conclusions. Starscream decided happily that there would be a folktale about him soon.

In the morning, the woman left the cottage to hail the post coach for him. When she was gone, Starscream called out, “Snake?” in a low voice. There was a rattling zing as the golden object uncoiled once more.

“Not a snake! Not a snake!” it buzzed in some disgust. “I was a sword before I was anything, and now I'm a magical charm.”

“But you look like a snake,” protested Starscream. “We humans judge on appearance.”

“Forty-eight of the King's Wives have been humans,” it replied. “Nothing they do would surprise me.”

“Well, what should I call you, then?” asked Starscream sensibly. “Do you have a name?”

“I am the King's Wife Charm,” it hissed royally. “That is my name and my function.”

“That's a little hard to say, all at once,” said Starscream, contemplating. “I think I'll call you Soundwave.” His father had owned a dog with the name when Starscream was small, and the young man took some satisfaction in calling the arrogant serpent by the same name. “I'm traveling in the human world today. I don't want them to stare at you and ask questions. Can't you be a little less conspicuous?”

The snake weaved back and forth before his face. Starscream hated this; it made him dizzy. “One hundred and twenty-seven King's Wives have been embarrassed to be seen with a snake around their necks,” it buzzed, but it whisked out of sight down his sleeve.

Starscream hurried to the coach as it stopped by the cottage. “No bags, sir?” asked the freckled coachman, helping him in. Starscream sat down on the hard leather seat and looked around. A large, fleshy woman and a rather beefy man sat across from him in the coach. The man was reading a paper and barely glanced over, but the woman was eyeing him with interest. Under her gaze, Starscream colored up. What a sight he must be! His deep blue breeches and jacket, lovely yesterday, were crumpled and stained with mud. Accustomed to the underground, he hadn't realized that it was early winter and had brought no coat, so the old woman at the cottage had persuaded him to accept a patched black one. To top it off, the amount of jewelry he wore was truly shocking by English standards. Starscream sighed. He shouldn't have scolded the snake. It couldn't have made him look more bizarre than he did already.

“You poor, poor boy!” exclaimed the woman in a loud, penetrating voice. “What on earth happened to you?”

Starscream drew back from her. During his time with the goblins, he had quite forgotten what it was like to be faced with awkward social situations brought on by anyone other than his husband, and he stumbled around for an answer. Another consequence of having lived so long with the goblins was that he'd grown accustomed to simply telling the truth and letting things sort themselves out, but he didn't think that was going to work in this case, nor did the woman seem the sort to leave him be if he ignored or snubbed her. 

“I had an accident while traveling,” he said at last. “I almost drowned. I don't have any other clothes to change into.”

“Oh, my poor dear,” boomed the woman. Starscream suspected that the horses could hear her. “You'll catch your death of pneumonia! How far are you traveling, you poor thing?”

“I'm going to Liverpool,” replied Starscream, glad of a simple answer.

“That's wonderful!” declared the woman. “We are, too! What's your name?”

“Starscream Quaes—or Mister Quaes—or, no, Mrs. Megatron, I suppose?” He blinked, realizing he wasn't actually sure if that counted as his husband's surname or not. All the Kings shared it, so he supposed it must.

“My dear, you're not well!” exclaimed the woman, naturally misunderstanding his stumbling at the question. “The shock! We must put you up at an inn the next time we change horses.”

“No,” said Starscream hurriedly. The last thing he needed was well-intentioned fools getting in his way. “My husband is ill, and I have to get to Liverpool right away.”

“Hurrying to his bedside, no doubt,” stated the woman. “Married so young! Whatever were you thinking! Do tell me all about him.”

Starscream stared at her in horror. Tell her all about a goblin? “I... well... um,” he stammered hopelessly, drawing a blank on a suitable story to invent. The woman watched him, fascinated.

“Tell me how you met,” she insisted stridently. Starscream took a breath and thought this over.

“My brother and I were lost in a storm,” he said, “and he led us back to our house.”

“How romantic!” cried the woman. “And you lost your heart to him right away!”

“Not at all,” averred Starscream, remembering Megatron's sarcastic comments as he had slogged home in the dark beside the horse.

“Oh, come! He swept you off your feet, I suppose!” exclaimed the woman.

“Well, he tried,” admitted Starscream with a snort.

“Young and handsome, no doubt!”

Starscream laughed at this.

“He's not young,” he said, “but he doesn't look that old.” Handsome? Megatron? Best not to say anything.

“And where do you live?” demanded the woman. Starscream's head was beginning to throb.

“Where do we live?” he frowned. Under Hill, under lake, locked behind magical doors. “Not.. not far from where the horses stopped.” Too late, Starscream realized that the woman couldn't possibly believe him. If he lived so close, he could have gone home to change clothes.

“You poor, poor thing,” the woman commented emphatically.

Wonderful, thought Starscream. Now she thinks I'm crazy.

When he staggered out of the carriage that evening, Starscream felt sure he knew every moment of the woman's life from birth. He had an intimate acquaintance with the furnishings in her home, the local shopkeepers' best bargains, and the grandchildren's childhood diseases. Starscream's head pounded, and he longed to be home among the goblins. They would never have dared to pummel the King's Wife with so much boring talk.

“Soundwave!” he called, standing in a corner of the inn yard. The snake uncoiled from his arm with a little zing.

“Thirty-six of the King's Wives have been fat,” it commented quietly. “Twenty-four have been loud. Eight have been fat and loud,” it added in a soft whisper.

“Your suffering knows no bounds,” Starscream muttered. “Soundwave, has this ever happened before?”

“Yes,” hissed the snake softly. “Two other King's Wives have been outside without the King's permission. One no longer had a King. He was dead and his wife was awaiting the birth of the Heir. The other was in danger when the Kingdom Spells gave way and his King was far from home. And one King's Wife traveled by closed wagon with a loud, fat woman during the migration. But it is true,” it whispered, “that you are the first King's Wife to travel by closed wagon with a loud, fat woman and without the King's permission.”

“No, that's not what I meant,” said Starscream impatiently. “I mean, has the King ever been held prisoner under an enchantment before?”

The snake had no shoulders, but it managed to convey a shrug. “Why would I remember that?” it buzzed. “Do I guard Kings? I do not worry about the minor details of Kings' lives. I only remember what is important.”

* * *

Supplied with an explanation and several gold pieces, the innkeeper found Starscream a coachman who would drive him straight through to Liverpool, hiring horses for him along the way. As the innkeeper's wife packed Starscream a supper to eat in the carriage, the coachman introduced himself. Bingham was tall and handsome, with brown hair and large brown eyes.

“No bags?” he asked in astonishment, and Starscream impatiently repeated his explanation about the near drowning. “Then I'll ask the innkeeper to give you a blanket or two. You'll be cold in the carriage, sir.”

“Finally, someone who knows how to see to a gentleman's needs,” sniffed Starscream haughtily, hoping that the blankets wouldn't be horrid, scratchy things. He'd gotten rather used to the luxurious ones he and Megatron kept on their bed at home. The thought sent a wave of homesickness through him, accompanied by memories of his husband's strong arms holding him safe and warm beneath those blankets. It must have shown on his face because Bingham's pleasant features softened further.

“You must be exhausted. Shall I have them bring a pillow, too, since we'll be driving straight through the night?” he asked.

“That would... Yes. Yes, I imagine that would be prudent,” Starscream nodded. “And yourself? They tell me the trip will take until late tomorrow night. Are you good for that?” He didn't need his coachman falling asleep and letting the horses take off any which way they liked.

“Oh, never mind me, sir,” said Bingham. “I do this all the time. Besides,” he added, gazing at Starscream warmly, “I think it will be a rewarding experience.”

Bingham was as good as his word. Armed with more gold pieces, he made sure the young man lacked for nothing. The views became steadily uglier as they approached their destination, and the winter twilight fell long before they reached Liverpool. Starscream had not enjoyed the port city when he had seen it with his father. This time he found himself even more disheartened at the close streets, the choking smoke hanging in the air, and the pressing crowds of ragged people. Hordes of beggar children chased the carriage until Bingham used his long whip to drive them away. Starscream's father had explained to him about the poor people who poured into the city, hoping to find work on the docks or in the huge textile mills. Nine-year-olds might work twelve hours a day at the weaving machines, losing fingers or even their lives to the machinery when the fatigue made them careless. He couldn't imagine Megatron ever allowing such a thing in their kingdom.

Tired and out of sorts, Starscream began to long for the end of the journey. Soon they would be at the inn. The carriage stopped, and Starscream peered out the little window in the door. They were in a dark, narrow alley lined by ugly brick buildings with unusually large doors. They looked like the warehouses that he and his father had driven through near the harbor docks. Trash glistened in the puddles on the rough cobbled street. Bingham, his handsome face tired but still beaming, opened the door.

“Where is this supposed to be?” Starscream demanded. “No decent inn would be in a place like this.”

“No decent inn would house a changeling like you, either,” Bingham remarked casually, his grin shifting to something not at all pleasant. “But I reckon you'll be a decent time all the same.” And he started to climb up into the carriage.

Starscream didn't even have time to shout before he felt a rustling zing, and Bingham stopped, shuddered, and fell over backward out the carriage door once more. He lay motionless, his big brown eyes staring up at the sky from his new position prone on the dirty paving stones. The golden snake wove back and forth in front of Starscream, metallic fangs glistening.

“I have just bitten a man,” announced Soundwave with arrogant contentment. “There he lies, awaiting the King's Judgment.” Starscream simply stared at the treacherous young man, unable to find words. After Steelrim, he really ought to have known better than to assume he was safe with such a handsome, considerate young man. He closed his eyes and shuddered at the thought of what might have befallen him if it weren't for the King's Wife Charm.

Then another thought struck him. “Soundwave,” he said, “the King told me once that if you had to bite me, you would go find him to report that I had been foolish.”

“That is quite right,” whispered the snake. “I do not leave the King's Wife unless I must, but if he is where he will not quickly be found, my bite endangers him. Then I myself seek the King for him. I have had to leave eight-seven King's Wives alone. It is never good. They are not safe without me.”

“Then does your magic tell you where the King is?” asked Starscream.

“Yes, if he is close enough.”

“Soundwave, we are in the city of the sorcerer,” said Starscream, “and the King will be with him. Is he close enough for you to find?”

The golden snake twirled slowly up one of Starscream's arms and down the other. Then it wound itself around and around his neck, climbing into his hair. Finally, it dropped back to his shoulder, hissing like a boiling teakettle.

“Yes,” it announced grandly. “I have found the King. He is very near.”

Starscream left the paralyzed coachman lying in the alley by his carriage, his dark eyes following the young man as he walked away. The magical bracelet that Starscream wore lit up puddles and weeds as he picked his way along the filthy streets lined with vacant warehouses. Starscream had never seen such a disreputable place. All his instincts told him to run away as fast as he could. But the King's Wife Charm rode his shoulders like a stylish piece of jewelry, and his husband lay somewhere ahead, held prisoner by powerful magic.

After some wandering, Soundwave hissed and tugged him into the shadows. A few seconds later, a thickset figure plodded silently past them, not even looking their way.

“That was Barricade!” said Starscream. The young man hurried up behind him, but the burly goblin didn't turn around. When Starscream tried tugging on his coat, his hand passed right through without encountering anything solid at all, but in another second, the dematerialized goblin reached a door in a crumbling brick building and jerked it open decisively. He might be air, but his grip was as strong as ever.

Starscream caught the closing door as Barricade went through it and stepped into a narrow, leaky hallway lined with brick walls. The ground was covered with wet paper and decaying trash. Beetles skittered softly along the walls and among the moldy papers, fat and sleek, and smoothly black. His attention tugged by the large bugs, Starscream placed his feet carefully to avoid stepping on any. Then he realized that he was alone. Barricade had come through this door just seconds ago, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

Starscream stepped gingerly down the nasty space, trying to avoid the puddles and insects. A large gray rat hurried along the wall beside him, intent on business of its own. Soundwave watched it closely, but it made no threatening moves. As Starscream neared the end of the hallway, he saw a door to his left. He was reaching for its handle, feeling very concerned about what might be beyond it, when a small child burst out crying practically in his ear. Starscream jumped and whirled around. Soundwave whisked out of sight, hugging his arm tightly, but its coils didn't collapse into a resting state. Starscream approved of its judgment. This was no place to rest.

The child continued to wail pathetically. Starscream looked up and down the hallway and held his bracelet toward the stained and spider-hung wooden rafters, but he saw no sign of it. In another minute, the door swung open beside him. Starscream turned, almost falling as he slipped on a fat bug. A man stood in the doorway.

“Welcome, my dear!” he said in a hoarse but enthusiastic voice. “Always a pleasure to have pretty callers. You're looking for the baby, aren't you? Why don't you hold your magical jewelry a little higher and look at the wall there?”

Feeling that his lighted bracelet was rather unfortunately conspicuous, Starscream nevertheless did as the man suggested. At first, he recoiled, seeing what appeared to be a large spider on the wall. Another moment's examination, though, and Starscream felt distinctly sick. A shriveled, skeletal little hand was nailed into the brick beside him. Starscream dropped his arm and turned back to the man, completely disgusted.

“Isn't it clever?” the stranger rasped, sounding like he was barely concealing a joke. “Isn't it an interesting bit of magic? It cries whenever a woman or androgyne walks by because it's still looking for its mother. Rather impractical, I'm afraid, since it won't cry when a proper man comes in, but must we always be practical? Some things we do just for their own sake.” He beckoned Starscream into the room, but the young man didn’t move. “Come now, you’ve made it this far. Come in and let’s the two of us have a chat, one sorcerer to another.”

Starscream narrowed his eyes, but eventually stepped forward, confident that Soundwave would take action should an imminent threat present itself. He didn’t see as he had much choice in the matter, now that the sorcerer knew he was here, if he wanted to find his husband and the other goblins. In another second, though, he gave a loud cry and jumped back into the hall, the baby’s voice wailing once again beside him.

“Oh, don’t be alarmed,” called out the man. “Come right in, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Starscream stepped slowly back into the small room, his hand over his mouth. In a large iron cage lit by two candelabra lay the decaying body of Hulk, his insides distended with gas. The tiny room was full of the most unbearable stench, and Starscream could see that the large body was teaming with bugs and worms. He choked, sure he would vomit in the close space. The sorcerer came to stand beside him, gazing down at the dead feathered ape.

“Who says monsters don’t exist, eh?” he inquired, rubbing his hands together. “You never expected to see such a sight in your life, and you’ll never guess where I found him. Not the Himalayas, no, not even the Andes, but right here in our own British Isles! He’s a goblin, my dear. They do exist, you know. Isn’t he such a beauty?” He sounded like a showman introducing his most prized act. 

Trying to control his stomach, Starscream concentrated all his energy on studying the sorcerer. The man was unremarkable in every way. He was of medium height and build, gray-haired and slovenly. His ordinary face might have belonged to any grandfather of Starscream’s experience. But when he turned toward the young man, Starscream discovered that his pupils were ruby red. He had seen many an unusual eyeball in the last year and a half, but every single one still had black at the center.

“Come along,” the sorcerer invited, picking up one of the candelabra and leading the young man through a door at the other end of the small room. Starscream found himself in a very large, low room, the original ware-housing space of the building. The dancing lights of the candles and his own diamond bracelet could not illuminate its dim corners. The floor was littered with the remains of smashed boxes. Starscream hooked his trousers on a piece of packing crate and had to stop to work it loose. When he turned around, the sorcerer was waving him courteously through a narrow doorway. He stepped through, trying to avoid the flattened bit of fur that looked as if it had once been alive. As he did so, the sorcerer pulled a door of iron bars out of the wall. He slammed it shut with a clang, and just like that, Starscream was a prisoner.

“What are you doing?” Starscream demanded, seizing the bars.

“I’m going to kill you,” wheezed the man, his face lighting with mirth. “You’re obviously a powerful sorcerer in your own right, and I’m not going to give you any more time to do your work.”

“I certainly am not!” said Starscream indignantly, cursing his own stupidity and wondering why Soundwave hadn’t bitten the man yet. “I’ve only done one… Okay, maybe three spells in my entire life! My coachman tried to… to kill me, and I was trying to find help. I saw a man walking this way, and I followed him. That’s all!”

The sorcerer turned at the doorway, holding up the candelabrum. Those red pupils glowed eerily from that comfortable face.

“If you weren’t powerful in magic, your coachman would have succeeded in killing you and saved me the trouble,” he snorted. Starscream reflected unhappily that this was probably true. “Perhaps you can explain why you were snooping about my property with magical lights when you’re so terribly weak in magic, but I doubt it. Not that it matters; I’d kill you anyway. I can use your hair and your liver, and I think I have a spell that calls for your left ear, too.” He turned and went out, cackling merrily all the way.

“Soundwave,” called Starscream angrily, “why didn't you bite him? Don't tell me he's not a danger to the King's Wife!”

Soundwave glided up from his sleeve and peered out through the bars at the gloomy space beyond. “You are in terrible danger, King's Wife,” it hissed softly. “Only three King's Wives before you have been in more danger. I cannot bite this man. He is what Barricade was, a manifestation of the spirit. He can kill you, but if I try to bite him, I will seem to be biting the air.”

Starscream glanced around his long, narrow prison in dismay. “But what can we do? How can I escape?”

“His body is elsewhere, like the King's,” whispered Soundwave. “I must have a body to bite. You are the one hundred and sixty-eighth King's Wife I have guarded, and you may be the last.”

“If his body is elsewhere,” said Starscream firmly, “then you have to go find it. Surely he wouldn't leave it too far away.”

Soundwave hissed for a few seconds and then unwound itself, gliding down to the floor at his feet. Now that he was rid of the snake that he had detested for so long, Starscream felt horribly unprotected.

“Look everywhere, Soundwave. You have to save the kingdom,” he called. “Don't worry about what happens to me.” The magic snake stopped and reared up to look back at him. It seemed like a long, thin bar of gold.

“I do worry, King's Wife,” it hissed. “You are carrying the Heir. If you die, there will be no more Kings, and that means no more King's Wives.”

“The Heir?” gasped Starscream. “Soundwave! What are you talking about?”

“Your son, of course,” buzzed the snake. “Yours and the King's. Stay alive until I return.”

“Wait!” cried Starscream, but it whisked under the door and was gone.

Starscream paced up and down for some time in the cell with his hands over his stomach as he turned this news over in his mind. So he was going to have a baby. Wouldn't Megatron be thrilled! He couldn't wait to rescue his husband so that they could talk about it. I wonder what the baby will look like, he mused. Maybe my hair and Megatron's eyes. I'm not going to cry when I see him, he thought happily. And that sorcerer had better not try to hurt my baby!

A click at the far door told Starscream that the sorcerer was returning. Bulk sidled through behind him, carrying a large, curved sword. Starscream stared at him in astonishment. Although the goblins had a well-stocked weapons room, none of the King's Guard carried anything but a knife. They relied on magic to subdue enemies.

“Ta-da! You were so interested in the dead goblin,” said the sorcerer, “that I thought you would enjoy being killed by his twin.”

“But how can you be sure he's a goblin?” asked Starscream. “He just looks like a funny monkey to me.”

The sorcerer turned to look at the pale ape, who crouched with his sword in his huge hands. “Oh, he's a goblin. They all look different. I have sixty of the horrible monsters now, and they carry out any command. You would think, to look at them, that they were designed just for hell. They don't even have to kill on their errands. People run at the sight of them.”

This speech made Starscream absolutely furious. Bulk was not a monster, and neither were any of the other goblins. They would have scorned what the handsome Bingham had tried to do to him, and they certainly wouldn't kill a guest in order to use his left ear. Starscream glared at the avuncular sorcerer. How happy he would be to live with his own horrible monsters if he could only get away from this one!

“That's fascinating,” he said coldly. “How did you even know they existed? Did you just meet one by accident?”

“We’re wasting time.” The sorcerer hesitated, and a childish grin split his face. “But it’s such a good story, and a few minutes won’t matter.” Starscream fervently hoped that he was wrong there. “It all started some thirty years ago, you see. I had a brother, much younger than I, and an androgyne like yourself. We had lost our mother to an illness of the mind, and he was all I had left in this world. A dear, dear boy he was, our Damus...” His face turned somber and he seemed to be looking at something that Starscream couldn’t see for a moment, but then he shook himself and continued bitterly. “We took a holiday together one year, to a place called Hallow Hill. Have you heard of it? Lovely wild country. There’s a lake there, Hollow Lake, and my brother loved it. On the second night we were there, he went for a stroll on the lake’s edge alone… And that was the last I ever saw him.”

Starscream felt his jaw drop as realization struck him. He had made such an effort not to think about Megatron’s first wife that it had never crossed his mind the boy might still have had family somewhere wondering what had happened to him.

“Yes, it was quite tragic,” the sorcerer agreed. “Of course, we sent out a search party, but they turned up nothing. No body, no clothes, not a shred of a trace that Damus had ever existed. I returned home discouraged and sought refuge in my mother’s books, and what do you think I found there? My mother had not been entirely mad, after all! She was a sorceress, and she had left instructions of how I might follow in her path. I was a man of science—a doctor, as a matter of fact—but I would have done anything to see justice done for my brother. So I spoke the spells and I made the pacts, and I found my power.”

“Then I don’t know if you’re mad yourself or just stupid,” Starscream spat. “Demons always see to it that they’re paid better than they work.”

“I don’t see as you’ve any right to judge,” the sorcerer sniffed haughtily. “Seeing as you’ve clearly made pacts with your own demons.”

Starscream just glared at him through the bars. Yes, he had sold his soul to a demon of sorts to save his little brother, but the fact remained that  _ he _ still had his little brother and this man had nothing but rot.

“But even with the help of my magic, I spent decades without finding a lead on Damus’s fate,” the sorcerer went on. “Until last year when an old friend of mine from the medical world wrote to me, thinking I might have some interest in a new patient of his. This madman claimed he’d been enchanted by goblins, and you’ll never guess what they did. They stuck him to the ceiling! I couldn’t believe it when I saw him. I’d give anything to learn how to do it.”

The sorcerer couldn’t have wished for a better audience. Starscream just kept staring at him, open-mouthed. So he had learned the details of the goblins from none other than Starscream’s own guardian. Wouldn’t Megatron be furious with himself when he learned how his actions had endangered the whole kingdom!

“That strange man skittered back and forth across the ceiling like a bug,” continued the sorcerer, “telling me all about the goblins who stole his wards, and I knew immediately that my search for my brother’s killers was over. Of course, no one but me believed him. Everyone was sure he had killed his wards himself. I wasn’t about to let another magician profit from his excellent information, so I killed him before I left. And you’ll never guess how I did it!”

Starscream couldn’t speak.

“I split him in half—lengthwise!” The sorcerer burst into a loud raucous laugh. “There he lay, body cracked open and guts and blood spilling everywhere, but it was leaking out across the ceiling! Not a single drop on the carpet! What an unbelievable sight!”

Starscream stared at the man, horrified beyond words. Steelrim Bryht had meant real harm to his wards, and Starscream still occasionally had nightmares about him. Now the image of the man’s lifeless mangled body dripping across the ceiling was doubtless going to haunt his dreams.

“So, finally, I had my lead to the goblins!” the sorcerer said with a flourish. “And I wasted no time about moving in on them, I assure you. They took my brother and enslaved him for their own selfish purposes, and now I intend to return them the favor. I’ll repay them every torment he ever suffered at their hands.”

Starscream let out a bark of manic laughter of his own at the conclusion of this speech, and the sorcerer frowned. “Your brother was lucky they took him if life with you was his alternative.”

“Enough talk!” the man snapped. “Time to kill you. I’ll be able to try something new tonight with that ear. Do you command that bracelet to light, or does it light by itself?”

“I don’t really know,” Starscream said, looking down at it absently. “I don’t think I do anything.” In answer, it flared a little brighter. The sorcerer looked annoyed.

“Go ahead,” he told the feathered ape hoarsely, handing him a key. “Unlock the door and then kill him.” Bulk shuffled forward, head down. He turned the key in the lock, and Starscream stepped through the open door, head held high. Bulk looked up at him, his yellow eyes strangely darkened, and shuffled back a step. Starscream walked out into the room, stepping over the flat fur thing, and Bulk moved farther away, looking at the floor.

“Now what's happening?” growled the sorcerer. “Are you working a spell on him?” He crossed to the ape and stared at his face, slapping him a couple of times. Starscream noted that his hand didn't go right through. Apparently, spirits could hit each other.

“Go kill him!” the man demanded, pointing at Starscream. The ape shook his head pitifully. Bright flames engulfed the feathery body, and he howled silently, writhing in torment. “Go kill him now!” But Bulk crouched down and hid his face.

“I can't believe this!” The man eyed Starscream uneasily. “I think he's afraid of you. They lose their memory, voice, and hearing, so their fears are almost the only thing they have left. But why you?” Starscream considered the question himself. Bulk must be afraid of being bitten, he thought. Every goblin was raised to know what the King's Wife Charm could do.

“I'll fetch another one,” the man muttered. This time he didn't lock the young man up in the cell; in fact, Starscream noticed with satisfaction that the sorcerer gave him a rather wide berth as he headed for the door. Bulk disappeared after a minute. Starscream hurried to try the two doors out of the large room, but both of them were locked. What a shame, he reflected bitterly, that the powerfully magical elf he supposedly was couldn't work a simple Unlock Spell.

The sorcerer came back with Shockwave and Tinsel, a giant of a goblin with thick, corded silver-gray arms. Sunwave had named him for his hair, which fell like bright tin threads around his face. Neither goblin would approach Starscream at all. The sorcerer bullied them and burned them, but they refused to lift their swords. The gray-haired man wiped the sweat from his face and studied the slight, pretty young man with real alarm.

“I can't imagine what they think you'll do,” he complained. “It's times like this that I wish they could speak.”

“Maybe they're just gentlemen,” Starscream suggested calmly. “They certainly look like gentlemen to me.” The sorcerer stared at him in astonishment and turned to study the two phantoms. Doubtless, he had been sure that his prisoner would scream at the sight of the one without a nose, but the young man gazed at the freakish creature as serenely as if he saw it every day. He hesitated, seeming to think. Then he snapped his fingers in sudden inspiration.

“I know which one will kill you,” he said gleefully, turning to leave. “He's the best one, the very best, and he's not afraid of anything.”

Unlike you, Starscream thought in disgust. You can take on helpless things without a qualm, but you're afraid of one mysterious young man. He glanced up scornfully as the sorcerer returned, his plain, comfortable face wreathed in smiles. Then Starscream gasped. Right behind the sorcerer was Megatron, eyes on the ground, curved sword in his six-fingered hand.

“Oh, so you're afraid of this one, eh?” The sorcerer turned to look at the silent goblin. “That's funny, I don't think he's so bad. The tusks are a bit grotesque, but nothing compared to those nose holes, I would have said.”

Starscream stepped forward quickly. “Megatron, look at me,” he called out in goblin. “I've come to help you escape, you useless lug. Can't you work any magic at all?” The goblin King didn't even move. His face was shielded by his impossible hair as he leaned on the curved sword.

“No working spells on him!” barked the sorcerer. “I don't want you damaging him! Now, kill him,” he commanded the goblin. Megatron swung the sword up and stepped toward Starscream without hesitation. The young man reflected bitterly that the sorcerer had chosen well. The goblin King had nothing to fear from the King's Wife Charm. He would never be bitten, no matter what he did. If only the idiot would  _ look _ at him!

“I wasn't enchanting him, I was talking to him!” Starscream said indignantly, stepping away from his husband's advance. “I just said hello. Why didn't he answer?”

“What, you know him?” shouted the man in disbelief. “Wait a minute,” he ordered, and Megatron stopped at once, staring at the ground. “He only hears and knows what I hear and know. If I were out of the room, he'd hear nothing at all. What language was that? How do you know about goblins? Why are they afraid of you?”

“His name is Megatron, and he is the King of the goblins,” Starscream said, ignoring the questions. “He is a great magician, much greater than you will ever be, and he protects people with his magic. He doesn't need to carry around candles like you do. He lights the entire kingdom with his spells. And I asked him why he had a sword in his hands. He doesn't need a sword. He kills with magic.”

The sorcerer looked excitedly at the motionless goblin King. “What a shame he can't speak or remember! Have you watched the spells? Do you know the words?” Starscream's heart gave a leap. As the sorcerer talked, he saw Megatron make a movement of his own. He was fingering the sword thoughtfully as if he were thinking about his wife's last statement.

“The goblin King's magic wouldn't work for you,” said Starscream coldly. “No human could work it. No human can ever work magic. They talk the demons into working it for them.”

The sorcerer flinched, and his pupils glowed bright red. “Kill him!” he roared angrily. Megatron raised the sword again, but this time he didn't step forward.

“Megatron,” cried Starscream urgently, “I know you won't hurt me. You never did, except that very once,” and he held out his scarred hands. “I know you won't kill me because the lines say a long life. A long life for both of us.”

“Stop! Where did those come from?” The sorcerer studied the magical lines with interest, and Megatron put down the sword. This time, Starscream thought the King was looking at him, but he couldn't be sure because his hair was still in his face.

“They're from the wedding ceremony,” he explained, gaze fixed on where he knew his husband's eyes were. “From the magic worked to protect the King's Wife. Nothing matters to the King as much as his wife and his son. Remember, Megatron? Your wife and son!”

The sorcerer stared at him, amazed. “You're his wife?” he demanded. “You're married to that monster? A pretty boy like you and a freak like that!” He bellowed out a laugh. Behind him, the goblin dropped his head once more.

“He’s not a freak!” cried Starscream in indignation. “Goblins are strong, not pretty, and anyway he was good enough for your little brother before me!”

The sorcerer’s face paled, and the glow deep in his eyes flared. “What do you know of my brother?” he demanded.

“They took him to be the King’s Wife before me,” Starscream told him. “He was married to this goblin here, but he went mad. He thought they were figments of his imagination, and he spent the rest of his life a gibbering mess. He died of a heart attack almost 20 years ago, but to the very end, Megatron cared for him and did his best to help him because that’s the kind of man he is!”

“You lie!”

“Goblins don’t lie,” Starscream sneered. “Megatron, you have to come home,” he begged his husband. “You’re asleep right now in your own palace, and you have to wake up!”

The sorcerer turned to look at his servant and the goblin turned to look at his master. Megatron hesitantly reached a hand up to push the silver hair out of his face.

“Stop that!” cried the sorcerer. “You know you can’t move on your own! That’s enough of your magic!” he snarled at Starscream. Then he whirled back to the goblin. “So, you stole my brother for yourself, and when he didn’t suit your purposes, you took up with this trollop instead?” He drew back his hand to strike a blow across the goblin King’s face so powerful that Megatron took a couple of steps back. “You killed my Damus and I’ll have you kill your new precious little wife, too! Maybe I’ll even let you go for a little so you can spend some time appreciating what you’ve done. Strike him down, and be quick about it!”

At the command, Megatron advanced decisively, sword up. When he looked at Starscream, the young man saw the same distant expression he had worn while cutting his hands open during the ceremony. He didn't think his husband knew him at all.

“Fight for us, you useless brute!” he screamed. Megatron raised the sword in his right hand and brought it slashing down, but at the same moment, he shoved Starscream as hard as he could with his left hand. The young man sprawled onto his back in a filthy puddle as the blade flashed past.

“Stop trying not to kill him!” the sorcerer screamed. “Kill him, and this time really do it!”

Starscream tried to scramble away, but the goblin stepped on his arm, pinning him to the ground. His impassive gaze showed only the faintest flicker of unease, the faintest hint of puzzled recognition. He swung the sword up to chop off Starscream's head, and the young man couldn't get away.

“Megatron,” Starscream whispered in goblin, “I'm going to have a baby.” Then he closed his eyes tightly as the sword came slashing down again. He felt a burning pain and reached up to touch his face. A shallow cut stretched across his cheekbone, but the weapon clattered to the ground.

“My wife and son!” Megatron cried. “Star, our baby! Do you mean it?” He looked around in surprise. “What are we doing here? Where are we?” And he reached down to help his wife up out of the puddle. The sorcerer glared at them both, beside himself with fear and horror. A dog started howling somewhere below them.

“The watchdogs!” the sorcerer spat at Starscream. “This is all your fault. Sixty monster servants, and I have to kill you myself!” He snatched up the sword and raised it, but Megatron wrapped his arms around the furious man. Starscream stepped back from the struggling pair, unsure what to do. “Let me go! I’ll kill you all!” howled the sorcerer, his eyes like red lamps. Megatron was wreathed in flames now, his face twisted in agony, but he held the sorcerer in a tight grip. An unearthly keening came from below, joining the howling dog.

“The wizards! The wizards!” shouted the frenzied sorcerer. “Let me go!” As the stricken Starscream watched, Megatron glowed brightly all over like molten metal. He collapsed onto the floor, still glowing, and the sorcerer broke free, charging straight at Starscream and swinging the sword wildly. One second, Starscream was staring at his livid face, mouth open, spit flying, weapon swung back to kill the young man. The next instant, he was staring at the dim room beyond as the sword toppled onto the ground. He seized it and looked around frantically, but there was nothing to see. The room was completely empty.

Holding the sword, Starscream moved to the center of the room, gazing around in bewilderment. He reached a hand up to his cut cheek and wiped away the blood, staring at the silent, dingy space and listening to the water drip from the rafters. He remembered the howling and the keening of a moment before, but now there was no sound at all. A golden flash caught his dazed attention, and in another second Soundwave twined rapidly around his arm until its head reared up before his face. As he blinked at the snake, it bared fangs in an exultant grin.

“I have just bitten a man,” Soundwave hissed triumphantly.


	14. Chapter 13

Starscream picked his way carefully down the rotted wooden stairs underneath the warehouse building, still clutching the sword. He was beginning to regret having asked the golden snake to show him the sorcerer's body.

“Soundwave, did you know all along that I was going to have a baby?” he asked.

“Yes, I knew, King's Wife,” hissed the snake.

“And you let the baby and me leave the kingdom?” demanded Starscream in amazement.

“The kingdom was not safe. The sorcerer could reach inside it to bring harm to you and the Heir. I needed to come to the sorcerer to protect my Wives.”

They reached the bottom of the stairwell. Two large gray wolves were chained there. One of them was long dead, rolled onto its back with its legs out stiff. The other one appeared to be sleeping. Its beautiful fur was matted with filth, and the gray coat wrapped around a desperately thin body.

At the end of an unlit hallway, Starscream came to a thick wooden door, splintered and twisted from its hinges. He stepped cautiously past it and caught his breath sharply. At his feet lay two hideously desiccated human corpses wrapped in dirty bands of cloth. Their dark brown skin was tough and leathery, stretched taut over the bones beneath. One was missing a hand, and the other had no lower jaw. The upper teeth stuck out into the air, yellow and uneven.

“When I was here before,” Soundwave hissed quietly, “these two were awake. I did not bite them because they did not try to stop me. I am only a magical charm, and they are here to combat the living.”

Starscream stepped over the mummified forms as well as he could, keeping a worried eye on them. Then he looked up and stopped short.

Before him lay the sorcerer on a low stone table, his comfortable face calm and his body motionless. Starscream gripped the curved sword tightly, reassured to be the one holding it now. He saw in horror that the man's red-lit eyes were fixed on him. They were the only thing about the body that could still move.

“I have just bitten a man,” hissed Soundwave with deep satisfaction. “There he lies, awaiting the King's Judgment.”

Starscream stared at the grotesque red lights in the pleasant face, remembering his husband's glowing body lying on the ground. He didn't even know if Megatron had survived. He thought of the bloated Hulk, who lay here so far from home, and the little child's hand still longing for its mother. A hard lump rose in his throat as he glared at those sickening eyes, and he lifted the sword and brought it down with all his strength. The sword rang hard against the stone table, sending a shock up his arms, and the sorcerer's head bounded off his body and rolled into the corner. Starscream stared, startled, at the rush of dark blood inundating the sword blade. Perhaps he hadn't needed to use all his strength.

“There you are, Soundwave,” he said shakily, wiping the bloody blade. “I don't think we need to bother the King about this one.” As Soundwave buzzed like a hive of angry bees, Starscream looked around the room in disappointment. “Where are the goblins? Are they already freed?”

“No,” said the snake. “They are upstairs in jars. I found them in my journey looking for the body. Pity, I am sure the King would have planned an excellent revenge for it.”

“Then he should have gotten to it first,” replied Starscream, stepping over the mummies again.

They went upstairs to the sorcerer's workroom. Starscream, used to Megatron's tidy ways, was disgusted at the mess. Scrolls, parchments, and open books littered the tables and the floor, and the room reeked from the many nasty mixtures that rode the sea of paper. Starscream reflected that goblin magic and demon magic must be very different: Megatron's magic relied on herbs, minerals, and other inanimate objects, whereas the flies buzzing about the stinking remains in this room told a very different tale.

Standing alone along one wall were rows and rows of ordinary glass jars, each with some hieroglyphs painted on its lid. Starscream picked one up carefully. It was very light, but he could see something inside that looked like colored water. “What should we do?” he asked. “Should we open the jars or take them back to the kingdom? Maybe if we break the seal, the goblin inside dies.”

“I do not know,” admitted the snake. “I interest myself in no magic but my own. Here are some that are not goblins,” it added, gliding over two old jars at the back. “Open them and see what happens.”

Starscream carefully pried up the lid of the first one, breaking the wax seal. A cloud of orange smoke streamed out like steam from the spout of a teakettle. It flowed swiftly past him and was out of the room before he could blink. The other jar was filled with yellow smoke that sped after the first.

“Well,” he said doubtfully, “they certainly knew where they were going, but how do we know we did it right?” He went back to the other jars, looking for Megatron. Soundwave found his jar, and Starscream held it up to the light from his bracelet. It was only half full, he noticed with concern. The others were completely full.

A rasping noise behind him made him turn around. The two desiccated corpses from downstairs shuffled slowly into the room, one propping himself upright on the other, who was crawling. Their noseless, leathery faces turned toward Starscream, and he saw with a shudder that they looked at him without eyes. The one without a hand had orange sparks glowing in its empty sockets, and the one without a jaw looked at him with twin yellow sparks. The handless one spoke in a mumble, propping its inadequate form on a paper-strewn chair. Starscream backed into the shelves so quickly that he nearly knocked several other jars down as the jawless one crawled a pace nearer.

“They mean no danger to the King's Wife,” hissed Soundwave. “It is just that they have been dead for a very long time—they were wizards long ago when I was young. They wish to thank you for freeing them from the sorcerer's control.” Staring at the hideous corpses, Starscream remembered the orange smoke and the yellow smoke that matched the flaming eyes.

The mummy spoke again, holding its hand below its shriveled jaw to help itself form the words. “They go now to the place where they belong,” translated the snake. “They serve a greater power than this paltry man. They have had a tiresome few years putting up with his arrogance.” It listened closely as the corpse spoke on in a mumbling whisper. The crawling figure knelt upright now, almost at Starscream's feet.

“They ask a favor,” Soundwave hissed. “They wish to take the body of the sorcerer with them. They say there is always danger from a dead body that held such powers, and also, there is the matter of their own revenge.”

Starscream stared at the two ghastly forms before him. Their flames glowed very brightly at him as Soundwave spoke. The voiceless one kneeling at Starscream's feet gave a vigorous nod to show his enthusiasm. He did this by reaching up with his bandaged hands and rocking his skull back and forth on its bony neck.

“Do you think I should let them?” Starscream asked doubtfully.

“I think so,” hissed the snake. “I can feel their hatred for the sorcerer. Their desire for revenge is real.”

“All right, then,” said Starscream. “In return, ask them what we should do with this place. We need to make sure that this magic can't be used again and that the spells worked here are undone.”

Soundwave spoke quietly to the wizard, and he mumbled out an answer. “They say that when fire consumes the spells and enchantments, they will all be broken.” 

Starscream considered the difficulty of this task rather unhappily. The standing mummy spoke again, and the crawling corpse nodded his skull. Then they turned and shuffled slowly from the room. “They thanked you again,” the golden snake hissed after they left. “They said it was a great pleasure to meet such a powerful young sorcerer, especially such a pretty one, and most especially a fellow androgyne.”

“Oh. Well.” Starscream stood up a little straighter. “Charmed, I'm sure, though I'm glad they don't know the truth.”

“Eighteen of the King's Wives have been powerful sorcerers,” hissed the snake. “Five of them were powerful when young. But only one other King's Wife besides you was powerful, young, and pretty all at once.” Starscream blinked, and then beamed with pride.

Confident now of obtaining the goblins' freedom, he pried open jar after jar, releasing smoke of every color. Some almost exploded. Others streamed out more calmly. They all headed resolutely for the door and vanished, one after another, down the hallway.

Starscream saved Megatron's jar for last. When he had counted the others to make sure no one was missing, he pried up the lid of the half-empty jar. Nothing came out. He tilted the jar, and the dark green smoke poured out like water, collecting in a swirling puddle upon the floor. As he watched, almost in tears, it rolled slowly toward the door. He could have walked beside it and kept up.

“Oh, no! Soundwave, what have I done? How is he supposed to get home like that?” wailed Starscream. The golden snake twined around his waist, bending low to study the rolling cloud.

“The King isn't looking well,” it hissed quietly. They watched in silence as the cloud vanished into the dark hall.

“And now I have to burn this place!” cried Starscream, still distraught about his husband. “Oh, dear, the wolf! I can't burn it down around her ears.” His time with the goblins had made him softer toward animals than he'd ever been to his fellow humans.

The wolf danced and yelped frantically at the end of her chain. The golden snake bared its fangs in anticipation, but she only pawed at Starscream, whimpering pitifully. Starscream unfastened the buckle on her tight collar, and the gray form barreled past him and whisked up the staircase, running toward the back of the building.

Starscream followed the wolf down another bug-filled hallway. He emerged at one end of a long, unlit room filled with rattles, squeaks, and roars, clapping his hand over his nose and retching at the hideous smell. Beside him in the short end of the room was a large, wide door. Unlatching it and pushing it open as far as he could, he stepped into the alley beyond. He stood outside for a minute in the drizzling rain of the late night, breathing in the sweet, smoky air.

The wolf jumped into a low pen across from the door and laid herself down among several small puppies, but only one emaciated pup crept to his mother. The other three lay stiff, insects crawling over them. Holding up his bracelet, Starscream discovered that the room was filled with cages of all sizes. Animals growled, hissed, and banged the bars, and the floor was covered in waste and filth. He didn't think he could stand it.

“I don't know if I can destroy this place now, Soundwave,” he sighed. “I can't just burn them all alive.”

“I have seen them,” whispered the snake. “Many of them you can simply release. Some of them would be a danger to the King's Wife. I can bite them, and you can leave them to the fire. But if you do not want to burn them alive, you will have to kill them yourself. My bite does not kill.”

This, Starscream decided reluctantly, was the only thing he could do. He retrieved the sword from the jumbled workroom and forced himself to look into one cage after another. Many animals in the cages were long since dead, and living animals crawled over their rotting comrades, quarreling with each other for the bones. Starscream released a tide of mangy rats, stepping back quickly as they poured toward the open alleyway. He let out three young foxes and a number of kinds of birds. A bear, one eye gone, roared desperately at him, but he had to stab the poor brute. Soundwave whizzed busily about the cage of poisonous snakes, biting its living copies faster than they could react. Then Starscream cut down the middle of the cage, dividing the motionless bodies.

He came to the cage of a small monkey and opened the door gingerly, hoping as much for its sake as his own that it wouldn’t try to bite him. He expected it to run to the alley, and he felt it was a pity as such an exotic creature could never survive in the cold and damp of an English winter. But the monkey simply hopped down the row of cages until it found the wolf and her pup. Starscream watched in surprise as it curled into the wolf’s fur and the pitiful creature turned her head to lick it as she had her pup.

As they approached the last cage, Soundwave whispered, “This one is no danger to the King's Wife.” Starscream peered into the cage and almost fainted. A baby girl pulled herself up by the bars and looked out at Starscream, giggling in delight. She was round and rosy, her black hair and bright eyes shining in the light from the bracelet. She stretched up toward the sparkling light, waving one hand through the bars. Starscream bent down and the child caught one of his fingers and held it firmly in her fat little fist.

“How can we possibly find her mother?” breathed Starscream, kneeling by the cage. He saw, revolted, that the cage already contained other sets of small bones and rags.

“Are you sure she still has a mother, King's Wife?” hissed the snake. “The child's dress is stiff with blood.”

Starscream stared for a long moment at the baby in its simple, thread-bare dress. He imagined a mother, young like himself, struggling with the sorcerer as the horrid man fought him for his child, falling, fatally stabbed, but still clutching the baby close as his eyes glazed in death. Or perhaps—Starscream's heart stopped at the thought—perhaps a goblin servant had pulled away the baby. Perhaps his own husband had wielded that deadly knife. He pressed a hand to his own stomach where he knew it would only be a matter of weeks before he felt the first stirrings of his own child, and hoped fervently that the wizards were more creative than either he or Megatron when it came to exacting their revenges.

He headed purposefully back toward the workroom, the baby in his arms. As he left the room, the mother wolf rose and picked up her puppy in her mouth. The little monkey scampered up to cling to her back. When Starscream reached the door of the workroom, he looked back in surprise to find the creature following him, round eyes seemingly expectant.

“She will not harm you, or the child. Such is the magic of the elves,” Soundwave explained.

Starscream left the baby in the workroom with the wolf and went to fetch the candelabrum burning by the cage of the dead Hulk. But now the huge body glowed with a multicolored light, covered with bright patches of smoke, the freed goblins who had stayed to protect their dead comrade from the insects. Megatron had said that the goblins stayed together. That was their strength.

“Burn the body,” Soundwave whispered, “and the goblins will leave it. They will know there is nothing more to be done.”

Starscream brought papers and books to the cage and spilled candles over them. Then he tossed the shriveled little hand onto the pile, the child's voice wailing in his ears. Once lit, the paper went up quickly, and the candles melted in the heat. One by one, the colored wisps of smoke streamed away.

He hurried down the hall and dropped a candle in the workroom, igniting that sea of papers. Then he started a fire in the room of cages. Smoke was already pouring out the wide door as he stepped into the alley, and he could hear behind him the crackling and roaring of flames. Holding the baby, he walked off into the damp night. The wolf trotted behind him, her puppy still hanging from her mouth and the monkey riding on the back of her neck.

* * *

The next morning, Starscream was riding back home in a carriage with the baby on his lap, the wolf and pup at his feet, and the monkey climbing the seat across from him. “Soundwave,” he called, and the snake awoke with a zing. The baby screamed in excitement and clutched the golden coils with both hands. “You did a great thing last night, Soundwave,” said Starscream grandly. “You saved the kingdom, the King, the King's Wife, and the Heir.”

The snake considered this as well as it could while being tugged about. “I have always saved the King's Wife,” it pointed out softly. “The rest was important only insofar as it saved my Wives.”

Starscream pried the baby's hands loose. “I've decided to name her after you,” he announced, “because you saved her life.”

“You wish to call her Soundwave?” whispered the snake. “I will never know which of us you are talking to.”

“Oh,” said Starscream, realizing the truth in this. The snake examined the child curiously as she bounced up and down on Starscream's lap.

“I am sensible to the honor you do me,” hissed Soundwave. “Perhaps you would let me name her. I would like to call her Slipstream, after one of my favorite King's Wives.”

“Slipstream,” said Starscream experimentally. “Very well. We'll call her Slipstream. But,” he added wickedly, “I didn't know you had any favorite Wives.”

“I have guarded one hundred and sixty-eight King's Wives, and fourteen were favorites,” hissed the snake. “Their names are Solus, Magnus, Skysong, Hesione, Whitefoot, Regis, Femminus, Fireflight, Slipstream, Highrise, Fang, Radiance, Sunwave, and Starscream.” 

Starscream smirked at the last two names. Slipstream worked her hands free and grabbed for the snake again.

* * *

The next evening, Starscream stood before the iron door that led into the goblin kingdom. This trip underground was quite different from the one he had made before. Then, Megatron had brought an unwilling Starscream inside by force as he gazed longingly back at the stars. This time, Starscream barely noticed the night sky as he hurried inside to see his husband. All that the guards could tell him about the King was that he was gravely ill. Starscream shifted the baby anxiously from one arm to the other as he looked up at the massive iron door.

“Door!” he called out. “Let me back into the kingdom!” It rattled in consternation.

“King's Wife!” it boomed. “What are you doing outside? I didn't let you out.”

“No, you didn't,” said Starscream. “Quick, let me back in. I need to see the King.”

There was a pause. Perhaps it wasn't a long one, but to the hurried Starscream, it certainly seemed to be.

“I can't open for the King's Wife,” explained the door.

Starscream started to reply, but a metallic zing made him pause. “Listen to me, little door!” buzzed Soundwave ominously. “You are endangering my King's Wife with your stupidity. If you do not open immediately and without further discussion, I will twine myself through your lock and your hinges and throw you down twisted and broken, and the goblins will put in a new door that understands its obligations.”

The door creaked open, rattling sulkily as Starscream swept in with the baby, the golden snake twining majestically about his shoulders and the wolf with its pup marching behind.

“I never knew that snake could talk,” muttered the door.

Starscream hurried to the banquet hall. He peeked in anxiously, and his heart stopped. Of all the pallets he had left here a few days ago, only one remained, and he knew whose silent figure lay upon it. He ran pell-mell across the hall, the wolf galloping behind him.

“Megatron, Megatron!” he cried, dropping down onto the pallet and staring, heartsick, at his still face. “Please wake up! You have to wake up now!”

“All right,” the King agreed, in an amiable whisper, and he opened his unmatched eyes to smile up at his wife. Looking into those eyes, Starscream realized that he had lied to that loud woman after all. Of course he had lost his heart to him right away. For two days he had been thinking of things to tell him, but now he couldn't think of one. He just stared at him, his heart full.

Megatron freed one arm from the blankets and reached up to touch the cut on Starscream's cheek.

“I remember that,” he said softly. A metallic zing sounded, and the golden snake was with them once more.

“Oh, King,” the snake hissed ceremonially, “I have bitten a man. He lies in the city of Liverpool, awaiting the King's Judgment. I bit another man, too,” Soundwave continued with an unhappy buzz, “but he not longer requires your attention.”


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Megatron was ill for months, exhausted from fighting the sorcerer. Unable to go to court, he took care of important matters from his bed, and for some time he continued to rely on Thundercracker's help to carry out the Kingdom Spells. He sent Barricade out to deliver the King's Judgment on Bingham, but Barricade returned with the news that the paralyzed coachman had already been killed. Megatron was disappointed. The goblin revenge he had chosen for the young man would have been considerably worse than death.

It was in part Megatron's desire to work the Kingdom Spells that kept him bedridden for so long. Given that he only had so much strength, he preferred to spend it on useful magic rather than on walking. Always practical, he embarked on a review of the King's Chronicles as a way to use his convalescence. Starscream spent hours every day reading to him in his stumbling goblin while the wolf and pup slept by the bed and little Slipstream played on the floor beside them. The dwarves were already making the human girl elaborate baby toys, but Slips enjoyed playing with the wolves more than anything else. She pulled their fur and disturbed the King's rest with her laughter until the servants came and took her away.

As soon as he had the strength, Megatron erased the Door Spell, judging that he had no right to withhold freedom from someone who had braved such dangers to free him. He asked only that Starscream wait until their son's birth before using his newfound liberty and that he confine his outside visits to the goblin lands. Before, Starscream would have been wild at the long wait, but now he was resigned. He had seen enough horror in the world beyond to feel content in the goblin kingdom for some time. But he did go to visit the front door often. 

“I am the King's Wife,” he would call. “Open up.” And the poor door would have to open. It didn't try to argue with him anymore.

“Thank you,” Starscream would say, “but maybe another time.” And he would walk back to the palace again, leaving the door rattling back and forth in frustration.

At first Skywarp was disappointed that Starscream had forgotten his almond brittle, but the gift of the little monkey made up for everything. “I never had such a clever pet before,” he said wonderingly as the monkey scampered over his shoulders. Skywarp had rather ordinary human looks, but when he went about in bright silks and satins, with his hair done up in ribbons, his hands, arms, and neck covered in jewelry and the monkey riding on his shoulders, he went about as far as an average human could toward attaining a bizarre goblin presence. Starscream wondered what their father would say if he could see his sons now.

The wolf mother refused to be given away to anyone. She never left Starscream's side if she could help it, trotting behind as he went from place to place and lying down on his feet the minute he stopped. This achieved two important canine goals. First, Starscream always knew that someone loved him devotedly, and second, every bright suit and gown he wore received a generous sprinkling of coarse gray hairs. The thin pup grew into a handsome beast in time. Having spent his early months at the side of the convalescing Megatron's bed, he formed a strong attachment to the goblin King and followed him everywhere. Starscream, dipping into his educated past, tried to name the pair Helena and Constantine, but Megatron persisted in calling his companion Dog, or, when they were both in the room together, Your Dog and My Dog. Starscream decided rather disgustedly that this was to be expected from a husband who shared his own name with one hundred and sixty-seven of his predecessors.

When he heard from Starscream how the sorcerer had been related to them and how he’d learned of the goblins, Megatron grew more grave than his wife had ever seen him before.

“I had always thought that even if I’d destroyed Damus, at least I’d done it for the sake of my people,” he said bitterly, “but it seems I nearly destroyed them as well. Perhaps it would be better if I had gone about making cow eyes at farmers’ sons after all.”

“Well, you certainly never would have gotten me by making cow eyes,” Starscream snorted.

“No, I got you because you became so desperate that promising yourself to a monster was the lesser of all your ills. Would you wish that on our son’s future wife anymore than the pain and suffering of all those poor, captured boys before you?”

Starscream bit his lip and didn’t answer.

He also asked to be shown to Damus’s grave. Megatron seemed confused at the idea—Damus wasn’t there anymore, so why would Starscream wish to visit the spot?—but eventually Agatha took the King’s Wife to the place where all the previous King’s Wives had been entombed since the goblins had moved into the hill, and Starscream stood in front of the stone that commemorated the life of a boy far more pitiful than he. What he was doing there, he didn’t know himself, but somehow it seemed wrong to continue pretending that the former King’s Wife had never existed. The entire kingdom had nearly been extinguished because of the wrong done to Damus, after all. In the end, Starscream made some murmur of apology to him for the time he’d spent resenting the other young man, and then left.

“I’ve been thinking,” Megatron announced when his wife returned to him.

“Heavens preserve us,” Starscream replied.

“This practice of stealing wives is quite hard on both us Kings and you Wives, isn’t it?” he remarked.

Starscream moved to sit on the bed beside him. “You’ve only just realized?”

“I want my son to have a Wife like you,” Megatron continued, ignoring said wife, “rather than risk him ending up with one like Damus, rest his soul. I had always thought it would be impossible—who would want to marry a goblin? But  _ you’re  _ quite happy being married to a goblin, and Skywarp certainly wants to marry one.”

“I’m quite certain that Skywarp wants to marry Thundercracker, and I don’t think he counts,” snorted Starscream.

“All I’m saying is that it is not outside the realm of possibility to find a young androgyne willing to spend his life under the ground surrounded by monsters,” the King concluded. “And if I can let  _ you _ wander free after our son is born, then my descendants can surely do the same for their Wives, so it wouldn’t even be a case of trading away their entire lives anymore. What we need to do is figure out a way to encourage more of these young men to visit our lands so that we can find them.”

Starscream gaped at him.

“You’re… Are you seriously thinking of changing thousands of years of tradition?” he demanded after a moment.

“My dear Star, if it would have prevented even an ounce of your suffering, then I wish it had been  _ done _ a thousand years ago,” Megatron said emphatically.

“So… What are you going to do?” his wife wanted to know.

“I haven’t thought of it yet, but,”—the King turned to him with a broad, toothy grin—“I happen to know the greatest King’s Wife who ever lived. I’m sure that between the two of us, we can think of something.”

“Yes, well,” Starscream said, clambering into the King’s lap with a grin of his own. “I think we can save the thinking for later.”

* * *

The goblin King was well by the time the Heir was born. As he had long ago predicted, the birth was a very hard one, and it took all his attentive magic to get Starscream through it. “And very lucky you are, little elf, to be married to a goblin,” he told the young man firmly, “or you'd have gone the way of your mother, her grandmother, and the grandmother's own mother, I expect.” Starscream, pale and sweaty, didn't open his eyes to acknowledge this smug remark. After the last twenty-four hours, he didn't feel lucky to be married at all.

“A new Megatron!” announced Airachnia, bringing over the goblin baby. Starscream heard the old Megatron give a cry of delight. He reminded himself decisively that he was ready for this moment. Nothing about the son he had had with his beloved husband could possibly upset him. Opening his eyes, the exhausted Starscream took one look at his baby and promptly burst into tears.

He didn't cry because the baby, larger and longer than a human baby, was staring at him steadily with one green eye and one red eye. His skin was even more silver than Megatron's, and his lips were considerably closer to a rosy color. Starscream didn't cry about the hair, lying in silky locks around his high forehead, although that was a bit of a disappointment. As the King had predicted, the baby had his mother's dark hair, but marbled among the golden curls were soft locks of Megatron's own silver. No, it was the right hand, or rather, the lack of it that had the weary and somewhat hysterical Starscream bawling into his pillow. From the shoulder to the elbow, the right arm was a chubby baby arm, but from the elbow down it was the forearm and paw of a tiny lion cub.

Megatron couldn't have been more thrilled as he held his newborn son and watched him wave the fuzzy, speckled paw in the air. “What a King he'll be!” he declared happily to his sobbing wife. He stroked the soft baby locks, stirring their dark and silver curls with a finger. “Star,” he added with a puzzled frown, “I thought you hated my hair.”

“I do hate your hair,” sniffed Starscream indignantly. But then he remembered all the times he had seen Megatron looking at him through those shining locks or jerking out the ribbon and running his hands through the wild mane as he thought. “Oh, well,” he said with a tired giggle. “I suppose it made an impression.”

“Just look at him,” his husband insisted joyfully, setting their son down on the bed beside him. “What a stunning boy he is, every inch a goblin King! What could you possibly be crying about?”

“But, Megs,” Starscream protested, “he has a paw!” He looked at it dubiously. He was somewhat calmer now that the shock was wearing off, but he still wasn't happy about it.

“And do you remember the last goblin King who had that paw?” demanded Megatron. “Lionclaw, the greatest of all the Kings. Megatron Lionclaw led the goblins to this kingdom and ended the migration. He was the greatest magician the goblins have ever had. The records say that he was the one who enchanted Hollow Lake to hold up the water. Just imagine,” he exclaimed, “what magic he'll work with that right hand!” And as his tired wife wiped his eyes on the blanket, Megatron played with the little paw, pressing it gently to make the sharp claws extend.

“Look, Star!” he hooted. “It's just like a cat's paw!” And Catspaw was the son's name from that moment until the day he became Megatron in his father's place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!!!
> 
> Yes, there are a few things that aren't QUITE resolved, but this was the first book in a trilogy originally. And, no, in the original, the issue of Kings not having to steal their Wives in the future never came up and therefore never got resolved in the later books either, but whatever. Imagine that they came up with an ethical way to turn Hallow Hill into a rambling magical circus attraction that monster fuckers from around the world were drawn to and the goblin King was never in want of a willing wife again.
> 
> Also, the original books never do come back to those two wizards, even though they are far and away the most interesting piece of worldbuilding in my mind. They DO come back to the matter of the elves, and how Kate (Starscream) might have come to be part elf when supposedly all of the elves are dead. That's largely the focus of the other two books, as a matter of fact. I never liked the other two books as much as this one, but the second one does tell Seylin (Thundercracker) and Emily (Skywarp)'s love story, so there is that.
> 
> Anyway. Hope you guys enjoyed the ride. Support the original author if you can, and see you next time!


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